Gass 
Book 



LETTERS 

FROM 

BRUSSELS, 

IN THE SUMMER OF 

1835. 

BY 

MRS. ARTHUR THOROLD 
LONDON: 

PRINTED TOR 

LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMAN, 

PATERNOSTER-ROW. 

1835, 




LON DON : 

FEINTED BY MANNING AND SMITHSON, 
IVY-LANK, I'ATEHNO&TER KOW. 



MY MOTHER, 

WITH 

EVERY SENTIMENT 

OF 

LOVE AND VENERATION. 



LETTERS FROM BRUSSELS. 



L 

Hundreds have doubtless read descriptions of 
Brussels ; therefore, to them this little work could 
not hope to offer any charm of novelty; but I will 
conclude, that you, whom I am now endeavouring 
to amuse, have not yet become acquainted with 
this city, either in person, or from books. You 
will allow me also to believe, that you are a 
"kindred soul," thereby enabling me to think that 
my opinions and feelings will be understood. I 
have seen a beautiful idea attached to the words 
" kindred soul ;" it supposes that we have formerly 
inhabited some other planet, and on meeting again 



6 LETTERS 

in this our earth, are irresistibly attracted towards 
each other. If, then, we have winged our way 
together in some other sphere, let us still wander 
on this earth undivided in our sentiments. 

On any intimation of going abroad, have you 
not observed that all your friends congratulate 
you ? do you not hear " How delightful !" " How 
I envy you !" so many times, that at last you 
actually fancy you are going to enjoy some very 
new and unexpected delight, and in spite of the 
misery of leaving your own home, and perhaps 
some who are dear to you behind, you reconcile 
yourself with the idea, — surely, what all appear to 
unite in thinking so pleasing, must have charms, 
which I also shall discover. 

You see, I am supposing those who are to 
discover the charms, tolerably contented mortals, 
loving and beloved, not in want of occupation or 
amusement, and not infected with that love of 
change, which must be a torment to those who 
have it. Instead of enjoying that portion of com- 
fort and happiness within our reach, are we not 
too apt to dwell on some anticipated change, which 
is to increase it? Do not our lives often express 



FROM BRUSSELS. 7 

the truth of this line — " Man never is, but always 
to be blest." 

It is, that we hope too much; we want to be 
more happy than our nature will admit, and thus 
encounter many disappointments, which a less san- 
guine temperament would have borne lightly, or 
perhaps have not experienced. You will therefore 
be moderate in your expectations, and provided with 
a due degree of patience, to meet many small 
inconveniences which attend travelling : remem- 
ber, I am not taking it for granted that you are 
provided with a carriage, attendants, and every 
other luxury that money can produce ; you would 
then be no fit judge of these minor miseries; but, 
that you intend making use of the public convey- 
ances from one country to another, and accommo- 
dating yourself to the manners of those you meet 
The necessary passport must be procured from the 
Belgian Ambassador, for which seven shillings is 
the fee; and when you are thus in possession of 
an accurate description of yourself, carefully call- 
ing the attention to any little beauty or deformity, 
you may proceed to the Tower-stairs, and fight a 
hard battle against the impositions of the hackney- 



8 LETTERS 

coachmen and watermen. It is not easy to deter- 
mine which is the most exorbitant in their demand 
of these two classes; double what they ought to 
receive is invariably asked, and unless a bargain is 
made before their services are put in requisition, 
your fate is still worse. Making an agreement 
with them is hard work enough, even though the 
hope of a fare tempt them to a little moderation ; 
but if you leave your purse to their consciences, 
they feel such an infinite superiority in the wordy 
war which commences, that you are glad to surren- 
der, and be spared the torrent of abuse likely to 
overwhelm you. 

Speaking of passports, which are a necessary 
evil, invariably accompanying all foreign excur- 
sions, brings to my recollection the following anec- 
dotes : — 

A poor Gascon, who had committed himself at 
Marseilles, by some imprudent bravados for Napo- 
leon, wished to get out of the town before any 
danger happened. He got a passport, by means 
of two francs and the signatures of two friends. 
Having shaved himself that morning, they de- 
scribed him, "beard, none;" " complexion, none." 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



9 



Perhaps he was not very blooming. On the second 
evening a gen-d'arme inspected his passport. His 
beard had grown. " Beard, none?" said the gen- 
d'arme, "you have a black beard. Complexion, 
none ? and you are perfectly yellow. The pass- 
port is false ; you must wait here for another." 

In vain the Gascon protested; he was obliged 
to send his paper back to Marseilles, where they 
added, " complexion, pale;" "beard, black." He 
was on foot. The third day he fell down, and 
several contusions dreadfully inflamed his face. 
" Complexion, pale ?" said the inspector, in the 
evening, " you have the reddest face I ever saw. 
Nose, middling ? and your nose is enormous. You 
have also a scar on your chin. This passport is 
false; send for another." Again the paper was 
sent to Marseilles; and the poor man was two 
months on his journey, instead of twenty days. 

Another time, an old pensioner returned rather 
late to Paris, after dining in the country. At the 
barrier, he was asked for his admission ticket. He 
pulled out of his pocket the bill of fare he had 
just paid, and presented it. The inspector put on 
his spectacles, and began to read. " c Calve's 

b 3 



10 LETTERS 

head;' hem! that is good; they have amused 
themselves in describing him. 6 Pigs' feet ;' ha, 
ha ! not very polite ; 6 sheep's ears ;' c duck's 
breast that is odd. Pass on, citizen ; with such 
a description, you cannot be very dangerous." 

If it be true, that every pleasure has some little 
drawback, which prevents its attaining perfection, 
you will easily discover that an excursion to Brus- 
sels has its accompanying counter-charm in the 
commencement; for amongst all the discoveries of 
these times, no plan has been found of avoiding 
coming in contact with all the distressing sensations 
with which most people are afflicted who cross cc the 
sea, the open sea." 

cc The Sea" is a beautiful song, but I much 
doubt if its writer, lying in the berth of a steam- 
boat, with head and heart both sick, and ever 
indescribable essence fuming around him, could, 
with any truth, use his own animated words—" I 
am where I would ever be." No, no, never is the 
blessing of dry land and a peaceful stomach more 
earnestly desired. 

Since, then, the evil must be encountered, we 
may be allowed to take as much trouble as possible 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



I 1 



to alleviate it ; and, without the risk of being, on 
this occasion, considered selfish in our exertions : 
for this stigma is not awarded to those poor beings, 
who are only endeavouring to bear their burden 
quietly* 

The precaution of taking possession of your 
berth beforehand, and not delaying it until you 
come on board, is highly necessary. The most 
comfortable are the upper beds on the sides. 
Those across the stern, or, to use a nautical ex- 
pression, athwart-ships, are much smaller, and so 
low, that sitting up for a moment is out of the 
question ; and if you choose a lower berth, any 
untoward accident in the upper regions might 
forcibly remind you, it was no sky above your 
head, or any angel inhabiting it. 

It is also well to bear in mind, that the further 
you can get from the stern, or in other words, the 
nearer you are to the centre of the ship, the less 
motion is felt. If the cabin is so full that you are 
obliged to lie on the floor, you must consent to be 
walked over by the stewardess, in the performance 
of her various avocations, inwardly trusting she 



12 LETTERS 

may have a steady hand, and be well drilled in the 
seamanlike art of balancing herself. 

Settled in your berth, forget all pretensions to 
extreme delicacy of appetite, and determine to 
make a very good breakfast, of tea, bread, and 
fried ham, or well-seasoned beef-steak, remember- 
ing to eat it, still lying down, and to keep per- 
fectly quiet after the repast is finished, resisting all 
invitations to go on deck; for as surely as you 
attempt to move, fatal consequences will ensue. 

By following this prescription, and occasionally 
taking two or three tea-spoonsful of brandy and 
water, and a morsel of dry biscuit, the voyage will 
be concluded with less suffering to yourself, besides 
deserving public thanks for not having contributed 
to that of others, by your proofs of mortality. 

A good passage occupies about fifteen hours, 
half in the quiet waters of the Thames, the other 
half rather more agitated. It is amusing to observe 
the various preparations for the expected tossing 
and tumbling of the vessel, and the uncertainty of 
the uninitiated, whether the period of purgatory 
has yet begun. 



LETTERS FROM BRUSSELS. 



13 



The fare from London to Ostend is 21. ; the 
breakfast on board two shillings ; and two shillings 
rewards the stewardess for her trouble. It is ad- 
vantageous to take sovereigns or letters of credit. 
The worth of a sovereign is twenty-five francs, 
giving you the profit of ten-pence in the pound. 

It is not politic to appear ignorant of w T hat you 
ought to receive in exchange; such an opportu- 
nity of mistaking your bit of gold for a Napoleon 
would be rarely resisted, thereby lessening the 
value by four francs, whilst in the confusion of 
the moment you might not be aware that twenty 
shillings had exchanged places with only one-and- 
twenty ten-pences. 

Safely arrived at Ostend, and the steam-boat 
close to the quay, the passengers scramble to the 
police-office to have their passports duly inspected, 
and are made aware they are in a foreign land by 
the unintelligible sounds around them, in which 
" yaw, yaw," takes the lead, of which our English 
" yes" is doubtless the softened descendant. 



14 



LETTERS 



If. 

Several porters belonging to the different inns at 
Ostend, are on the look out to guide the passengers 
to their respective quarters. The Hotel de Bain 
is considered the best, but those who come abroad 
with the expectation of finding every thing so 
cheap, will not approve of the charges at this 
inn; a very good dinner is given at four francs 
a head ; beds, and coffee the next morning, at the 
same rate ; summing up a little account, which, 
when presented for payment, has the salutary effect 
of assisting to disperse the illusion under which 
English travellers frequently labour, of entering 
a land where they will be fed almost gratis. 

At the Custom House, your packages are strictly 
ransacked, and duty is demanded even for books, 
and any kind of musical instrument, although 
brought exclusively for your own amusement ; true 
it is, the more brief the little authority in which 



FROM BRUSSELS. 15 

man is drest, the more pleasure does he feel in 
exercising it to its fullest stretch of annoyance. 
And nowhere is your patience put to a greater 
trial, than at a Custom House ; whilst going 
through the ordeal, of seeing your trunks turned 
inside out; all your little treasures displayed to 
public view, looked at, handled, commented upon ; 
all your good packing, by which you had coaxed 
into amicable contiguity, various matters, that 
without such management could not have travelled 
safely in each other's company ; all this ingenious 
care, utterly counteracted, and you, a passive spec- 
tator of the outrage, compelled to set to work, and 
vainly attempt to restore order, and perhaps be 
further gratified by a demand on your money, 
before you can feel quite master of what was 
already paid for. In this town, it appears cus- 
tomary to leave the care of freeing your baggage 
to a person belonging to the hotel, who brings 
an account of the duty demanded, and restores you 
your keys, being himself answerable for the perfect 
safety of all that belongs to you. 

The English are allowed to understand the 
meaning of the word comfort, better than most 



16 



LETTERS 



other people, do not then expect too much of it in 
foreign inns. In the first place the beds are what 
we call French beds, possessing the great incon- 
venience of being uncomfortably narrow for two, 
not enough pillows, and a scarcity of clothing. An 
English fire-place is also preferable to a Dutch 
stove. The chimney and the mantel-piece are 
there, but instead of a cheerful fire,~that great con- 
soler, on a wet day, that soother of a poor tired- 
out traveller— he must be contented to look at a 
round iron projection, and warm himself at a little 
door in its front; however, these stoves are not 
without qualities to recommend them; they are 
considered, when the iron is thoroughly heated, to 
throw more warmth into the room, at less expendi- 
ture of fuel, they are easily lighted, and preserve 
the atmosphere from dust. 

The remaining part of the journey, comprehend- 
ing the distance between Ostend and Brussels, 
occupies one day, and may be accomplished either 
by land or water • perhaps, after the steam-boat, 
proceeding by water will have no attractions, but 
the cases are different; no troubled ocean forces 
you to partake its uneasiness; the barge glides 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



17 



quietly along the canal, allowing the passenger 
to be as placid and indolent as may please him; 
this is well enough in warm weather, but should the 
day be cold or damp, the coupee of the diligence 
is much the most prudent conveyance. The 
French excel in all matters of taste, but a diligence 
is no specimen : a more unprepossessing, heavy- 
looking conveyance cannot be invented; this pre- 
ponderous coach is divided into three parts, besides 
the cabriolet at the top, where the conducteur 
presides in due state over all arrangements. The 
driver on a seat below him. The best portion of 
the other divisions is the coupee, which holds three 
very comfortably, and is as private as a carriage, 
possessing the recommendation of affording a view 
of the country from the windows in front, instead 
of being cramped by another person, in equal 
uncertainty with yourself, how to dispose satis- 
factorily of his limbs. 

The fare from Ostend to Brussels, is twelve and 
a half francs for each person, and two francs each at 
the end of the journey, pays the conducteur. 
Driver and horses are constantly changed on the 
road, but no coachman makes his bow at the door. 



18 LETTERS 

and begs you will remember him. A way of 
impressing himself on your recollection, without 
the same chance of such recollection being plea- 
surable, as the foreign driver who permits your 
purse to forget him. 

The roads in this country are the same as in 
France, paved with large flat stones, with good 
sized trees on each side ; these trees give a pretty 
appearance of avenues, and in summer the shade of 
their green leaves must be most acceptable. You 
will be struck with the extreme flatness of the land; 
the horses apparently agree with their masters, in 
magnifying into a mountain, what we should term 
a very slight ascent; on approaching which, they 
call for the assistance of a brother labourer, and 
three abreast, toil over the hillock. The ground is 
rich, and well cultivated. 

Bruges and Ghent are passed through on your 
way to the capital, both good sized towns. What- 
ever anxiety to discover novelty, to see what you 
have never seen before, possesses your mind, you 
will not observe any particular difference from 
England ; certainly not so great as the eager eyes 
of a traveller wish to feast on. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



J9 



The people even, dress almost the same; the 
higher orders entirely adopt the French fashions ; 
and the peasant women appear, out of their houses, 
in a lilac cotton cloak, with a large hood, and a 
white cap with its wide border flapping over their 
faces as the breeze chooses. Light green is a pre- 
vailing colour for all windows and window-shutters, 
so much so, that it does catch the eye, and you 
inwardly congratulate yourself, on having seen 
something. 

From whence the appellation of Dutch-built 
took its origin, I do not know, but at least the 
Belgians need not in justice claim it ; they have 
every right to be called a well-proportioned race ; 
both men and women are of a good height ; the 
fairest way to judge of a people, as far as nature 
has to do with them, is to look at the peasantry 
in the country, where air and healthful employ- 
ment, give a fair chance of attaining that size they 
are destined to reach. The hair and complexion 
of both men and women are dark ; but clear, red, 
healthy cheeks, form part of their property, and 
generally good features. If your attention is called 
to the gable-shaped houses, all will have been 



20 



LETTERS 



mentioned that can interest in this day's route, and 
at eight in the evening you will enter Brussels, 
having left Ostend at six that morning. The 
fatigue of shaking over the paved roads, is not 
so great as might be fancied ; and at the Hotel du 
Grand Mirror, although not one of the first-rate, 
you will eat and sleep comfortably, meeting also 
with much civility, and on reasonable terms. Re- 
member, in ordering some cold meat for breakfast, 
not to long for a fowl, it is the dearest thing you 
can choose. A hot beefsteak is less expensive, 
and a good one is brought ; but by some means, all 
English are expected here to have cannibal pro- 
pensities, therefore it is necessary to desire it may 
be well-dressed, unless a slice from the animal 
itself is really preferred. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



2i 



nr. 

For a person who intends making any stay at 
Brussels, two methods of providing a residence 
present themselves,— taking furnished lodgings, or 
living at an hotel. The former is the least expen- 
sive ; the latter the most pleasant. The Hotel de 
Belle Vue, takes the lead, for which you pay 
accordingly ; no one can dispute its good appear- 
ance ; and the attendance and table-d'hote are 
equally approved; the situation also is excellent, 
being in the Place Royale, and on high ground: 
but if you will be aristocratic, and go to the first 
inn, it cannot be done for a trifle. The Hotel 
de Flandre is near it, where you may be accomo- 
dated on more reasonable terms, and still preserve 
the comfortable feeling of being in the fashionable 
part of the town. Here, as well as in London, 
there is a West-end; the nearer the park, the 
better ; but as far as I can learn, you need not 



22 



LETTERS 



be distressed to mention your abode, provided it be 
not lower than the Rue de la Madelaine. 

In seeking for lodgings, the commissionaire, or 
porter of the inn, is your guide, and expects 
two francs a day for his trouble, if much employed. 

The rent is paid monthly, that is from the day 
you enter, until the same day in the following 
month; this method of calculation appears in 
general use, and not by the week. They take 
also the wise precaution of being paid in advance, 
thereby preventing the possibility of a needy tenant 
sheltering himself at their expense, and then de- 
camping, strangely forgetting to pay. 

The Brusselines are perfectly competent to take 
care of their own interest, and it behoves strangers 
to be equally on their guard; but with every 
anxiety to preserve themselves from imposition, it 
would be a hopeless matter to endeavour to live 
some time here, without serving that apprentice- 
ship of being cheated, which new settlers have 
to endure, wherever their steps wander. 

Apartments are let at so much for each story, 
but provided the situation be good, it is not con- 
sidered detrimental to dignity, to approach the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



23 



skies ; the daily tread-mill work of ascending and 
descending so many stairs, may be very serviceable 
to the health, however much the wearied limbs are 
inclined to dispute such a prescription. 

From fifty to a hundred francs, is the usual 
demand for a quartier, as much higher per month 
as you choose to afford, but under that sum, you 
cannot expect to be accommodated with any pre- 
tension to comfort. The use of a servant belonging 
to the house, as far as putting the rooms in order, 
is usually included in the rent, but very little extra 
will be done for you, unless some further compen- 
sation be made. 

They also agree to provide linen for your beds, 
and towels, but these necessaries are furnished 
so scantily, that it is preferable to secure the 
comfort of cleanliness, by bringing some. Table- 
linen is not provided. 

It is not agreeable to fill a trunk, in which there 
is barely room for the clothes, with table-cloths and 
sheets, but out of three evils choose the least ; 
bring them with you, buy them when you arrive, 
or go without. 

Breakfast and tea you would of course take in 



24 



LETTERS 



the lodgings, but the more important point of 
dinner may be arranged, either by having it 
brought from a restaurant, or by going to the table- 
d'hote of whichever hotel is nearest. Perhaps 
some account of these two dinners may help you 
to decide. You may be fed from a restaurant 
every day, at whatever hour and price will best 
suit your convenience. For three francs a day, 
five dishes are furnished; that is, three of meat, 
and two of vegetables. There is no reason to 
complain of the quantity; if that is the chief 
consideration, be happy, your wants will be satis- 
fied; but as to quality, and the various little com- 
forts so indispensable to making a good dinner, or 
even to feeling you have dined, there is a lament- 
able deficiency. At the dinner hour, and tolerably 
punctual, a chain of small tins present themselves, 
and with no small portion of anxiety, their contents 
are examined, to discover if there be some chance 
of eating that day to your satisfaction. The per- 
ception in such matters is astonishingly quickened. 

Those who in the daily enjoyments of a comfort- 
able dining room, placidly imagine they care not 
what they eat, they are so perfectly indifferent. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



25 



will quickly discover they do care ; they are not 
at all indifferent; they do not like lumps of meat 
placed before them, instead of a joint, or enticing 
little ragout, or fricandeau; they do not like grease, 
literally yellow, swimming grease, instead of gravy ; 
they prefer hot plates to cold ; they have no fancy 
for waiting on themselves ; — these are novelties 
without a charm; and they are obliged to come 
to the mortifying conclusion, " T have a stomach, 
and unless its wants are attended to, I am by no 
means contented, perhaps not even good-tempered." 
What, then, is it come to this? does the mortal 
part of our nature so preponderate, that even good 
temper must yield to a bad dinner ? 

To know if a person is really possessed of this 
attractive quality, study the character on these 
occasions, and rely on it there is no surer test 
than that which may be afforded by these appa- 
rently trifling inconveniences. 

It is easy to be cheerful and animated, when 
all goes on smoothly; but are those who lay strong 
claims to these titles in their own homes, able to 
bear 'patiently being put out of their way? Do 
they, when all are undergoing the same petty 

c 



26 



LETTERS 



annoyances, forget themselves, and insensibly soothe 
others by the charm of cheerfulness ? Do they, 
by many little attentions, alleviate what is dis- 
agreeable, and make the best of what must be 
borne ? Do they exert themselves, to place every 
circumstance in its best light, and by directing the 
thoughts to what is pleasant, almost prevent the 
perception of the contrary; if so, they are truly, 
fascinatingly, good-tempered. 

Much of the happiness, not merely the pleasure 
of life, depends upon this disposition; it is not 
by great occasions we can accurately judge of it; 
because, religion teaches us to bear an affliction, 
generosity to forgive an injury, and the excitement 
of acting nobly in the eyes of others, adds its 
influence ; but when no merit is to be gained, — 
when forgetfulness of self, kindness to others, and 
patience are requisite, then an amiable temper is 
displayed ; what has perhaps been long unheeded, 
becomes appreciated; and we love it, not only 
for itself, but because it has imperceptibly lessened 
our own discomfort. 

To recommend herself more especially to your 
notice, the mistress of the restaurant will smilingly 



\ 



FROM BRUSSELS. 27 

say, she understands so well, cooking a 1'Anglaise ; 
a definition of this would be rather instructive ; 
it appears to consist in a beefsteak, or cutlet, being 
so lightly dressed, as to swim on the plate in its 
own juice; add to this, potatos too bad to eat, 
and a piece of baked meat, and behold what is 
considered an English dinner in perfection ! So 
much for our taste in eatables. By far the wisest 
plan, is carefully to eschew every thing a PAnglaise; 
imitations will not go down, after the realities in 
our own country. 

All the hotels have a dinner prepared every 
day, of which any person may partake, by giving 
notice at nine o'clock in the morning ; the general 
hour is two, the more fashionable about four o'clock. 
The comfort and excellence of this arrangement, 
secures many guests. 

For the sum of two or three francs a head, 
varying in price, according to the inn, an ample 
choice is presented, and it w T ould be difficult to rise 
unsatisfied from so great a variety of really good 
dishes. Soup, bouilli, joints of meat and vegetable^ 
are followed by game, roast meats, and sweets; 
succeeded again by cheese, salad, and dessert. 



28 LETTERS 

Those, therefore, with good appetites, may attack 
the solids; and the more fastidious, by waiting 
for the second course, will find wherewith to be 
content. 

Perfect good breeding prevails, quite as much as 
if it were a dinner party ; the same mutual anxiety 
that every one should be pleased; the same wish 
that if you do not appear to like one dish, another 
may be found more tempting. Ladies sit down 
in their morning dresses, either with or without 
bonnets. Those who attend regularly, have their 
places kept; others who only come occasionally, 
of course take their chance. 

Having now put you in possession of such 
points as may facilitate your decision with regard 
to food and shelter, perhaps you will expect some 
description of the objects worth attention in this 
citv. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



29 



IV. 

PRINCE OF ORANGE'S PALACEc 

The curiosity, or the cicerone, of most visitors to 
this city, generally leads them, shortly after their 
arrival, to the palace of the Prince of Orange, as 
one of the objects that is to draw largely on 
that stock of admiration which all travellers are 
supposed to possess. 

This palace, without being remarkably striking 
in its exterior, is certainly a handsome building, 
and does great credit both to its architect Van- 
derstraeten, for the plan and execution, as well 
as to the liberality of the States- General 5 in 
providing their prince with so suitable a resi- 
dence. 

In length, it is somewhere about two-hundred 
and thirty feet ; and in depth, between seventy and 



30 



LETTERS 



eighty. The design, which may be rather called 
chaste and elegant, than grand, consists of a rustic 
basement, surmounted by Ionic pilasters extending 
along the two stories all round the building, which 
is of an oblong form ; the ends projecting slightly 
beyond the centre ; and in each of these, towards 
the front, is a large pair of folding doors, made 
in imitation of bronze, and ornamented with that 
metal; that on the left opens into a spacious 
passage, wide enough to admit carriages with ease, 
and leading to a vestibule of an octagon form, 
having a massive and rich domed ceiling; the same 
passage continuing the opposite side of the vesti- 
bule to another door, which permits the egress of 
carriages that enter from the front. The ceilings 
of both passages and vestibule, are formed in 
square compartments, and supported by plain, 
polished columns; the whole being paved with 
oak, laid in squares, similar to a stone floor, but 
possessing a decided superiority over the latter, 
from the slightness of the noise made by carriages, 
though of course in point of durability it can bear 
no comparison with the harder material. The 
octagon centre relieves the straight appearance that 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



13 



a carriage drive of that description must otherwise 
have. The grand staircase is of stone, and entered 
upon from the vestibule ; the lower part, which is 
of a magnificent width, continues in a straight 
direction for half the ascent, when the stairs branch 
off on both sides, and terminate in a gallery leading 
to the royal apartments ; the upper part, or branches, 
though not so wide as the lower, are nevertheless 
of a very fine proportion. 

The walls and floor of the gallery are of red 
marble, and it is surrounded by a handsome 
balustrade of polished composition ; this hall is 
lighted from the dome, which is supported by 
twelve Corinthian columns, giving to the whole an 
effect of lightness and beauty, rarely to be met 
with. 

In order to be indulged with a sight of the royal 
apartments, strangers are not permitted the honour 
of ascending by the royal road, but must reach the 
object of their wishes by a humbler path, namely, 
a back staircase, as dark and uninteresting as back- 
stairs usually are ; and when arrived at the gallery 
before mentioned, previous to being admitted to 
the shew, must duly encase their feet in a species 



32 LETTERS 

of Brobdignag slipper ; the pattern, most probably, 
taken from amongst the specimens brought home 
by Gulliver. 

This plan of protecting the beautifully polished 
floors, has, moreover, the advantage of initiating 
all the English belles who visit the palace, and 
can keep the covers on their feet, in the first 
rudiments of skaiting ; and cannot fail, with a little 
practice, of qualifying them for becoming dis- 
tinguished exhibitionists on the Serpentine River 
in Hyde Park, the first winter after their return to 
London. 

Twelve rooms are thrown open for public in- 
spection, — all beautiful, — but the dining and ball 
rooms deserving particular attention. In the grand 
audience -chamber, and also in the one appropriated 
to those who wish to pay their respects to the 
Princess, will be found some tables and vases of 
Malachite, of exquisite workmanship. When you 
see such masses of costly material applied to one 
particular purpose, how is it that the mind cannot 
convey to itself an adequate idea of the immensity 
of their value? Although perfectly aware that 
immense it must be, from the smallest portions 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



33 



being converted to articles of jewellery; does it 
not prove, that the relative value of things depends 
not upon their actual worth, but upon the difficulty 
with which they are procured? 

Another object of striking beauty, is a table of 
lapis-lazuli; — worth its weight in gold, is a common 
expression for this stone, arising from the fact, that 
six guineas an ounce are given for the powder called 
ultra-marine, prepared from it, and preferred by 
artists, for the clearness with which it produces the 
azure of their skies. The mounting of these tables 
is or-molu: one other malachite table is supported 
on six bronze griffins. 

The dining room is divided into three parts, either 
end forming a large recess, separated from the body 
of the room by clusters of Corinthian columns. 
The effect of this is perfect. The walls are wains- 
coted with grey marble ; the doors are white, with 
gold mouldings ; the drapery of the windows white 
cashmere, edged with crimson; and the floor, of 
which it is impossible to give an accurate description, 
is composed of different kinds of foreign woods, 
inlaid so as to form by their variation of colour, 
elaborate patterns, and in a style of workmanship 

c 3 



34 LETTERS 

only exceeded by that of the ball room. All the 
floors are of the same description, and executed by 
Parisian workmen. 

The sides of those rooms not covered with marble, 
are hung with velvet, damask, or satin. Bunches 
of flowers, worked in silk on a white ground, form 
the backs and seats of the drawing-room chairs, the 
wood-work of which is gilt. 

Rather an amusing scene occurred on the very 
day we visited the palace, fully exemplifying the 
correctness of that unfortunate reputation our coun- 
trymen have acquired, of gratifying their sense of 
sight through the fingers. Proud then may we be 
of the advancement of science in our country, since 
even animal magnetism, elsewhere so little known, 
has with us attained such perfection, that we indis- 
criminately use the ends of our fingers, as the 
surest test of conveying to our senses those plea- 
surable emotions received by the rest of the world 
through the medium of the eyes: it was even 
carried to such an extent, in the party that pre- 
ceded us, as to induce one of the gentlemen (who, 
doubtless, by superior attainment in that science, 
had discovered the method of communicating sight 



FROM BRUSSELS. 35 

to various other parts of the body), to try to become 
acquainted with the colours of one of the beautiful 
chairs, by sitting on it; this was too much for the 
politeness of the superintendant, excessive even as 
it was ; he immediately exclaimed, " Oh no, not 
do that;" and then significantly smiling, said, 
"Touch what you like with the eyes, but no see 
with the fingers." 

The ball room is placed directly in the centre of 
the building, and so situated, that by opening the 
different doors leading from it, a delightful prome- 
nade is formed of the whole suite of rooms: it is 
of superb dimensions; at one end it has a semi- 
circular recess for seats, and at the other a spacious 
gallery for an orchestra; the walls are lined with 
fine white marble, and the ceiling supported on 
small fluted pillars placed on the top of the walls ; 
gold bronze candelabras of twelve feet high, are 
intended to contribute their lustre to this magnifi- 
cent saloon, which, when properly illuminated, 
would require no fewer than six hundred lights. 
The effect of music in so noble a space may be 
imagined, but hitherto, no one has had an oppor- 
tunity of observing this part of the palace in full 



36 LETTERS 

brilliancy. The palace has been built somewhere 
about seven years, but it was the fate of the Prince of 
Orange only to occupy it for one year of that period* 
which was previous to the revolution of September 
1 830, on which occasion it received some damage ; 
and it is a matter of astonishment, considering its 
immediate vicinity to the scene of action, that it 
was not more injured, or totally destroyed. 

To strangers, this palace is pointed out as con- 
taining a very fine collection of pictures: they are 
few in number, but valuable in quality. The 
following are considered by artists as among the 
best. A boar hunt, by Rubens ; two portraits, by 
Van Dyck ; a landscape, by Both ; two sea-pieces, 
by Scoter; a beautiful picture of the Holy Virgin, 
by Leonardo di Vinci; a St. John, by Rubens; 
also some paintings by Wouvermans, and Rousalez ; 
a magnificent landscape, by Ruydesdale, for which 
George IV. is said to have offered the sum of a 
hundred thousand francs. 

But while we are adding our voices to those 
praises, which are willingly ceded to the old mas- 
ters, we must not withhold the tribute due to 
modern merit. Verboeckhoven has a picture in 
this palace, fully worthy of the place it holds. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 37 

This artist and his pupil Verwee, are the most 
celebrated animal painters in this part of the world. 
Verboekhoven's reputation is already established; 
his devoted study of nature itself, has been re- 
warded by perfect success. Verwee is rapidly 
attaining the excellence of his master ; and unites 
to high talent, a gentlemanly liberality of feeling 
in his profession, which must win the regard of all 
who come in contact with him. 

The political events which dispossessed the 
Prince of Orange of his palace, have placed it, 
during its sequestration, under the guardianship of 
the Minister of Finance ; and easy access is ob- 
tained to view it, without the trouble of making a 
formal application. Numbers of Commissionaires 
are to be met with, loitering in the vicinity, pro- 
vided with tickets, each of which will admit six 
persons ; the price to be paid for this, is one franc ; 
half a franc to a porter at the door, and a similar 
sum to the one at the gate, will be generally consi- 
dered sufficient, upon quitting the palace ; but 
should strangers avail themselves of the services of 
a Commissionaire, for other purposes, a further 
remuneration will be expected. Tickets can also 
be procured at any of the respectable hotels. 



38 



LETTERS 



V. 

CATHEDRAL OF ST. GUDULE. 

The best place to obtain a good view of the 
cathedral of Saint Gudule, is from the Rue de la 
Cathedrale, from whence you see the front ; this is 
surmounted by two towers, very handsome, but at 
the same time having the appearance of incomplete- 
ness ; to account for this, it is necessary to mention, 
that the original plan was to have connected the 
two towers by means of an arch, and raised a 
steeple in the centre; this would have much im- 
proved its general beauty; but the funds for the 
purpose being insufficient, that part of the plan 
was abandoned ; and in its present state you cannot 
look at it without feeling that, grand as the two 
towers are in themselves, something is still wanting 
to complete the whole. 

It is to be regretted, that no clear space of 
ground has been exclusively devoted to this build- 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



39 



ing, but, on the contrary, many shabby houses are 
even attached to the very walls. Has not this the 
double effect of greatly lessening the beauty of its 
architectural proportions, and of intruding upon 
that sacredness, which all temples should inviolably 
preserve ? The petty affairs of life, have nothing 
in common with our more elevated feelings, there- 
fore dirty little shops cannot come in contact with 
that church, devoted to the daily service of religion, 
without offending the eye. 

The grand entrance is between the two towers, 
by a flight of thirty-six stone steps: interiorly, 
the cathedral is in the form of a cross, divided into 
three aisles ; the walls, which are said to have once 
been ornamented with paintings in water colours, 
bear now no traces of what they originally repre- 
sented ; the ruthless hand of modernizing improve- 
ment having totally obliterated them by a covering 
of white-wash. 

In the centre aisle, are placed statues of the 
Twelve Apostles, considerably larger than life, at 
an elevation of twenty-five feet from the ground; 
none of them appearing to possess any particular 
merit, but adding greatly to the general effect. 



i 



40 



LETTERS 



The pulpit, by Henry Verbruggen of Antwerp, 
is a finished piece of sculpture ; it was executed in 
1699 5 and presented by Maria Theresa to the 
church of St. Gudule, in 1776, after the suppres- 
sion of the Jesuits of Louvain, whose property it 
originally was, and for whom it was expressly con- 
structed ; it is considered one of the finest specimens 
of wood carving in the Netherlands. The subject 
which it represents, is the expulsion of our first 
parents from Paradise: the two principal figures 
are as large as life; the face of Adam, which is 
partly concealed by his hands and hair, is remark- 
ably expressive, and conveys a fine representation 
of remorse and anguish for his first offence ; that of 
Eve is, if possible, still more afflicted : both figures 
are in admirable attitudes, and support the globe, 
the concavity of which forms the pulpit, resting 
also on the Tree of Knowledge ; above, is a canopy, 
supported by an angel on each side, and closed at 
the back by a curtain ; surmounting the whole, is a 
fine figure of the Virgin Mary, with the infant 
Jesus standing in front, his foot placed upon the 
head of the serpent, which he pierces with the 
cross. A flight of steps leads up both sides, termi- 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



41 



nating in a platform at the back of the globe ; on 
the rails of these, which are carved in the form of 
branches, are placed varieties of fruits, flowers, 
animals, and birds. 

The other specimens of w r ood carving in this 
cathedral, consists of six of the principal confes- 
sionals, placed in different parts of the church ; they 
are beautifully executed, but do not bear a com- 
parison with the pulpit just described. 

At the end of the aisle and opposite the high 
altar, is a superbly painted window by Floris, 
representing the last judgment ; it is considered 
the best in the cathedral, though all the others are 
very well worthy the observation of visitors. 

The organ, which occupies the gallery imme- 
diately under it, is also said to be inferior to none 
in the country ; the form of it is remarkably well 
adapted to the situation in which it is placed, as it 
admits the whole of the window to be distinctly 
seen. 

On the left of the grand choir is the chapel, 
called the Holy Sacrament of Miracles ; it is of a 
very considerable size, and lighted by four well 
painted windows by Roger of Brussels ; the roof 



42 



LETTERS 



of this chapel is remarkable for its lightness and 
beauty, the abutments of the arches are ornamented 
with figures in stone, well grouped and executed. 
The design of the altar-piece, by Rubens, is very 
splendid, but by some considered to be too much 
loaded with ornament; the principal figures in it, 
are angels supporting a light and elegantly shaped 
canopy. The tabernacle, which is of marble, con- 
tains a Remonstrance, in the shape of a sun, made 
in solid gold, and enriched with precious stones; in 
this tabernacle are deposited some of the miraculous 
hosts. 

On the right of the grand choir, is the chapel of 
the Virgin, styled Notre Dame ; the windows in 
this are painted by De la Vaer of Antwerp, and 
represent the principal events connected with the 
life of the Holy Virgin : it contains nothing remark- 
able, or worthy of particular observation, except 
the altar, which is of black and white marble, and 
the figure over it of the Virgin. 

The high altar is modern, chaste, simple, and 
tolerably well executed ; the Corinthian is the style 
of it, and the sculptured ornaments are from the 
chisel of Deroy. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 43 

At the sides of the sanctuary, are two statues in 
white marble, by Delvaux ; one of St. Martin, the 
other St. Benedict; they were transported from the 
abbey of Afflighem, and thought to possess merit 
enough to entitle them to places in the museum at 
Paris, whither at one time they were destined to be 
sent. 

The Remonstrance is lowered from the tabernacle 
by machinery, into the hands of the officiating 
priest. 

On the left is a large mausoleum of black marble, 
named the tomb of the Dukes of Brabant, on which 
is placed a massive brass gilt Lion reposing on a 
cushion; this was cast in 1610, and weighs six 
thousand pounds. Opposite this mausoleum, on 
the other side of the choir, is the tomb of Arch- 
Duke Ernest. This Prince, clothed in mail, is 
sculptured on the top ; his sword, spurs, gloves, &c, 
are near him. 

In the side aisles are to be seen eighteen pic- 
tures, but they possess so little merit, as to entitle 
them to a very small share of the attention that 
the other parts claim ; they represent the miracu* 
lous Hosts, of which the following is the tradition i 



44 



LETTERS 



in the year 1370, some Jews forcibly entered the 
chapel of St. Catherine, in the Rue St. Cathe- 
rine, and carried off the Hosts, adding to their 
sacrilegious outrage, the act of stabbing them in 
their synagogue : five Jews were burnt alive on 
this occasion, on the spot now occupied by the 
hotel of the Duke of Aremberg ; it is farther said, 
that blood flowed from the mutilated Hosts : having 
been collected together, they were restored with 
great solemnity ; and from this period is dated 
the festival of the Saint Sacrament des Miracles, 
which is celebrated every year, on the first Sunday 
after the 15th of June. On this occasion, are 
exhibited for several days, in the cathedral, some 
large and splendid pieces of tapestry, on which are 
storied the traditions just mentioned; there is also 
suspended in the centre aisle, a fraction of the 
beam in which these hosts were concealed during 
the troubles, which lasted from 1579 to 1585. 

On the celebration of this festival, after high 
mass in the cathedral, a procession of the Hosts 
is made, through the principal parts of the town, 
in which the military bear a very conspicuous part, 
and hundreds of spectators swell the train ; the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



45 



music during the performance of high mass is 
very beautiful, and the devotional effect certainly 
much heightened by the kneeling attitudes of the 
armed soldiers, a part of the civic guard always 
being in attendance, to preserve decorum. Man 
looks well, prostrating himself, and the emblems of 
his power, with deep humility, before his Maker. 



46 



LETTERS 



VI. 

MUSEUM. 

On Sundays, from ten in the morning until three 
in the afternoon, the Museum is open for the 
benefit of the public ; but it contains so many rare 
and beautiful objects of natural history, that going 
either once or twice, will not satisfy those who are 
really fond of seeing the ever varying and won- 
derful productions of nature. 

A part of the old palace, situated at the end 
of a court leading from one of the corners of the 
Place Royale, and entered under a handsome gate- 
way in the form of a triumphal arch, is dedicated 
to the reception of works of nature, art, and the 
sciences ; different portions being appropriated for 
a museum, a picture gallery, a library, a cabinet of 
physic, lecture room, and chapel. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 47 

The right wing of this palace, when under the 
Austrian sway, was the residence of the Governors 
general. It is of very great antiquity, bearing 
date as far back as 1346, but cannot be supposed 
to have had, at that time, any of those architectural 
embellishments which it now possesses ; in fact, 
they were added after it was purchased by Prince 
Charles of Louvain, about the year 1744. 

The statues and bas-reliefs of the entrance are 
of later date again, and display the talent of the 
elder Delvaux. On the right is the chapel of the 
Ancient Governors, now used by the English Pro- 
testants; it was built in 1770, after the model of 
that at Versailles, and contains a well-painted 
ceiling by Heilbrock. 

The roof to the hall of that part of the palace 
where the Austrian court resided, is of a complicated 
and peculiar construction; it was planned by Faulte, 
and it is said, that during the time of its first erec- 
tion, he was taken ill, and consequently unable to 
superintend the building ; owing to this, it was no 
sooner finished, and the supporters removed, than the 
whole of it fell down. Upon the recovery of the ar- 
chitect, so convinced was he of the ill management 



48 



LETTERS 



which had taken place during his illness, and firmly 
persuaded of the substantialness of his plan, that he 
ordered the roof to be rebuilt on exactly the same 
principle as before; this was done under his own 
superintendence ; when completed, he desired the 
scaffolding and props to be taken away, whilst he 
remained underneath; a slight motion was percepti- 
ble, it settled down a little, got its bearing, and has 
remained ever since without the slightest alteration* 
After passing under the entrance, and crossing 
the court to the upper corner on the right, a door 
presents itself, which opens directly on the ante- 
room of the Museum for Natural History. Here 
you will meet with a gigantic hippopotamus, a fine 
rhinoceros, a zebra, a quagga, a very peculiar 
species of small elephant from Sumatra, an enor- 
mous seal, and a tapir, besides several other 
animals. The next room contains the birds, ar- 
ranged on the left, and some animals on the right 
side. Amongst the former you will be particularly 
struck with the varied and brilliant plumages of the 
birds of Paradise ; the numerous kinds, and no less 
splendid colours of the parrots; the magnificent 
argus peacocks of New Holland; the gold and silver 



FROM BRUSSELS. 49 

pheasants from China; the stately ostrich from 
Africa; the scarlet flamingo; the beautifully dimi- 
nutive humming birds from Peru, with their gold 
and emerald tinted heads and throats; and the 
sacred ibis of the Egyptians : this is no doubt the 
richest and most varied collection in the museum. 
Amongst the animals in this apartment, are lions, 
tigers, and great numbers of the ape species. There 
are also some cases suspended on the walls, con- 
taining a small but good collection of beetles, 
spiders, and butterflies. 

The succeeding room contains a large collection 
of minerals, correctly arranged and classed, and 
what is of still more advantage to the unlearned, 
properly labelled : these were presented by the 
Princess of Orange. Here also on the opposite 
side, is placed a continuation of the monkeys, and 
some fine specimens of bats. 

The fourth room is partly appropriated to mine- 
rals, and partly to shells, and with the preceding 
one, will afford ample gratification to the concholo- 
gist, and mineralogist; in both will be found speci- 
mens of the rarest kinds; this, together with the 
collection of snakes, lizards, and other reptiles, 

D 



50 



LETTERS 



preserved in spirits, which are extremely good, and 
the larger kinds of snakes and fishes, which are 
staffed, completes the objects of natural curiosity in 
the museum. Proceeding onwards, you pass through 
a small apartment appropriated to public lectures, 
and one, containing some philosophical instruments. 
Leaving these, you arrive at the foot of the grand 
staircase: the first object that attracts your attention 
on arriving at this spot, is a fine marble statue of 
Hercules, considered as the masterpiece of Delvaux, 
it is a good piece of sculpture, and well represents 
the strength of the Heathen deity; he leans on his 
club, and at his feet lies the Erymanthian boar he 
has just vanquished; the club is ornamented with 
cordons of the different orders with which Prince 
Charles of Louvain was invested ; how far this may 
be in good taste, we will leave others to determine; 
above your head is a painted ceiling, representing 
Olympus, and the twelve signs of the zodiac, exe- 
cuted by Verschoot ; the staircase would be hand- 
some if in proper repair, and the balustrade has 
nothing left to boast of, since the French carried 
off the twelve feats of Hercules, which originally 
formed its decorations. Having ascended the stairs, 



FROM BRUSSELS. 51 

you enter a rotunda, with a painted ceiling, which 
was also the work of Verschoot. The floor of this 
saloon, is of blue and white marble, tastefully inter- 
mixed, having in the centre, a star composed of all 
the various marbles of the country. Twice a year, 
an exhibition of flowers takes place in this room, 
which serves as an entrance, both to the library^ 
and museum of pictures. 

The library is divided into two parts : one the 
library of the city, comprising about a hundred thou- 
sand volumes, of which, between two and three thou- 
sand are of the fifteenth century; and the other called 
the Burgundy, formed of about sixteen thousand 
manuscripts, belonging to the government, many 
of them of great value ? from the information they 
contain relative to the history of the country ; some 
of these are embellished with miniatures, executed 
in the time of the Van Eycks, and others are well 
bound in red morocco: the librarians are very 
obliging, and extremely willing to aid the researches, 
and give any information to those whose tastes as 
bibliomanists, may induce them to tarry in this 
apartment. It is open to the public all days except 
Sundays, from eleven o'clock to four in winter, and 
from eleven to six o'clock, in summer. 



52 



LETTERS 



Retracing your steps across the rotunda, you 
enter the museum of paintings : in the first room, 
which is rather small, is a fountain in white marble; 
the subject a Triton and Naiad, a superb piece of 
workmanship by Gripello, and said to have cost 
the large sum of sixty thousand francs. A variety 
of other pieces of sculpture in marble are also 
placed in this apartment, some not without con- 
siderable merit. Here, also, are two pictures 
carved in wood by Jac. Berge, bearing the date of 
1733; they are beautifully executed, and to those 
who admire good work in this material, will afford 
a great treat. 

Passing on, you next arrive at a small collection 
of paintings by the modern Flemish artists; and 
in the next room are to be seen a variety of pic- 
tures of great antiquity, quite the nursery of 
painting; one of them peculiarly striking, as it 
gives a most ludicrous idea of the infancy of the 
art; it portrays the creation of woman. Adam 
is displayed in a sleep, lying in the garden; the 
shrubs, trees, fruit, and flowers of which, bear no 
resemblance to the garden productions of the pre- 
sent day, whatever they might do in the time it is 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



53 



intended to represent. Eve rises like a spectre, 
bolt upright, from his side 3 having attained her 
full size, all but the ancles and feet, which have 
still to make their appearance ; the accompaniment 
of angels is on a par with the rest ; anything more 
original than this painting, both in design and exe- 
cution, cannot easily be conceived; to be duly 
appreciated, it must be seen, as no description 
can do justice to its merits; it does indeed give 
an admirable idea of the infancy of the art. 

The names of Rubens, Grayer, Jordeans, Van- 
dermeulen, Snyders, Van Dyck, and many others 
of equal celebrity, excite all our hopes; but the 
collection is not considered by artists to contain 
more than a very few good specimens of these 
eminent masters. 



54 



LETTERS 



VIL 

THE PARK. 

Among the more select promenades of Brussels, 
the Park may be considered to take the lead ; in- 
deed, it has now become almost the only one that 
is much frequented ; its proximity to the fashion- 
able part of the town, tempting all that either 
saunter for pastime or walk for exercise, to indulge 
themselves with a stroll in its precincts. The 
Park is small, but well planted with trees, which 
in a summer's evening afford a cool and delightful 
shade; and the feet by no means object to parti- 
cipate in the comfort of smooth gravel, after bear- 
ing their burden on an execrably rough pavement. 
Though the Park itself is coeval with the town, 
yet it has a young and fresh appearance; but this 
arises from its having been replanned, so recently 
as towards the close of the last century. In style 
it has much the look of a large garden without 
flowers, the only pretensions to the latter being 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



55 



confined to a small plot, enclosed with iron rail- 
ings, and planted with a few varieties, designated 
by the high-sounding title of the Prince's Garden, 
and intended for his diversion, when he is old 
enough to be presented to the public in this cage. 
The pretty child will always give an additional 
grace to the plants ; and when the charm of inno- 
cent sportiveness is enhanced by royalty, we should 
be surprised if homage were withheld from their 
monarch's son. 

In summer, on Sundays, when the weather is 
fine, another inducement besides that of looking 
and being looked at, attracts great numbers of pe- 
destrians to this spot ; a military band is stationed 
under a clump of trees, and protected from inter- 
ruption by a circle of ropes, drawn round the 
place where they stand; they perform for about 
an hour, or an hour and a half, during which time 
their vicinity is crowded by hundreds. Unques- 
tionably, this public concert, enjoyed alike by poor 
and rich, obtained without payment, and allowing 
you to breathe a pure atmosphere instead of the 
vapours of a heated room, is a gratification we 
would not willingly forego. 



56 



LETTERS 



There are several public seats placed in the 
various walks, but as these would not be sufficient 
for the numbers who throng them, some speculat- 
ing characters have provided whole stacks of com- 
mon chairs, which, in the evenings, are arranged 
in sets of dozens, at a little distance from each 
other, in the centre walk, which seems to be the 
most fashionable part; you may appropriate as 
many of these as you like to your own conve- 
nience, and whilst enjoying the luxury they afford 
to yourself and party, or perhaps yourself solus, 
you inwardly rejoice on having been so com- 
fortably provided for, without trouble, and, as 
you perhaps at first imagine, gratis; but of the 
latter mistake you are quickly apprised ; the lynx- 
eyed keeper of these conveniences soon espies a 
stranger, and civilly makes known to you she 
expects a recompense ; however, for the very 
trifling remuneration of five centimes, or a half- 
penny sterling each, you may enjoy your cheaply- 
purchased luxury as long as you think fit. 

The centre walk runs straight from the Palace 
of the States-General to that of the King; and 
directly between the two, and almost in the middle 



FROM BRUSSELS. 57 

of the Park, is a stone, octagon-shaped basin : if 
you place your back to this, looking straight 
through the park to the town, which appears 
below, a pleasing coup d'oeil is afforded; on the 
left, is the Palace of the King, ornamented with 
its Corinthian columns, and surmounted by the 
tri-coloured flag; turning to the right, the Palace 
of the States-General presents a no less pleasing 
object, with its bold and highly-ornamented front 
of the Ionic order; and immediately before you, 
proudly rearing its lofty head, is the splendid 
steeple of the Hotel de Ville, displaying its light 
and elegant Gothic work, like a delicate tracery of 
fairy manufacture, in fine relief against the clear 
blue, or perhaps glowing colours of an evening 
sky. 

Abundance of statues are to be met with ; they 
are disposed in every part that can attract atten- 
tion ; to many of the number, much praise cannot 
be awarded, but there are several which merit 
more than a casual glance, and we will admire the 
indifferent ones, in return for the addition they 
make to the general effect. Straight walks, for- 
mally trained linden trees, and grass-plats un- 
p3 



58 LETTERS 

adorned with flowers, require the aid of statue^ 
busts, and vases, whose still lifelessness is in 
unison with the scene around. 

During the revolutionary struggle for liberty, 
which took place in this Park, in September, 1830, 
many of the busts and statues received con- 
siderable damage from the musket balls of the 
belligerent parties; these are now undergoing 
repairs, where the injury is not of too extensive a 
nature to enable art to restore their pristine beauty. 
Amongst those most worthy of notice may be 
mentioned, two in white marble of Diana and 
Narcissus, by Gripillo ; a Nymph, by Olivier ; an 
Apollo, by Jansens ; a Leda, in stone, by Van- 
derhaegen ; and a Charity, by Vervoot ; but un- 
questionably, the best in the collection is a 
Magdalen, in white marble, by Duquesnoy; this 
last fully merits the esteem in which it is held; 
the placid melancholy and resignation of the 
countenance, with the grace and elegance of the 
recumbent figure, added to the exquisite chisel- 
ling, render it an interesting attraction to the 
admirers of sculpture. A Lion and a Dog, in 
marble, brought from Terveuren, also claim a right 



FROM BRUSSELS. 59 

to be considered superior to many of the ornaments 
around. 

On the side of the Park, near the Palace 
of the States-General, is a wood, containing the 
Theatre des Variety, a small but neat one, which is 
open on Saturdays ; attached to it is a ball room, 
where during the winter months balls are con- 
stantly given by a select society; interiorly it is 
well ornamented in stucco, and was completed 
after a design by the celebrated architect, Vander- 
straeten. 

Thick and shady shrubberies, light coppices, 
and deep dells, lend their aid in relieving the 
monotony of this style of garden, and give a 
picturesqueness to the general appearance, which 
would not be imagined by contenting yourself with 
an outward view only of this public pleasure 
ground, which may also be said to afford at the 
same time, a rereat for the meditative and melan- 
choly. 

In one of these dells, the Belgians took up 
a position on the memorable day of September, 
1830, and kept up a murderous fire, from under 
cover of the wood, upon the Dutch troops in and 



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near the Royal Palace, and here were interred the 
bodies of the Dutch, who fell in the noble defence 
of their King and his rights ; the victims, not of 
manly and open conflict, but of revolutionary fac- 
tion. 

In another dell is a basin, which in years 
long past, received the refreshing waters of a 
fountain, but remains now neglected and dry. 
During the time that Peter the Great was staying 
at Brussels, he caused a quantity of wine to be 
cooled in this fountain, of which he partook whilst 
enjoying the coolness of this spot: an inscription 
still legible on the stone, commemorates this 
event ; it is as follows :— 

" Petrus Alexiowitz, czar, magnus Moscovise dux 
insidieus margini hujus fontis, aquam nobilitavit 
libato vino, hora post meridiem tertia, die 16 
Aprilis, anni 1717. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



61 



VIII. 

The Botanical Garden has acquired a good name 
from the scientific, and the unlearned will find it 
one of the most pleasing- objects, for a morning's 
amusement. 

It is open to the public, on Tuesdays, Thurs- 
days, and Saturdays, from ten to three; if you 
wish to pass through the conservatories, a ticket 
is given, for which you pay the sum of three- 
pence, and for this small fee you will have the 
opportunity of observing many foreign plants. 
The actual flower garden is circular, divided into 
compartments, in which the plants are classed, 
according to their nature and properties. 

The botanist may here study to his heart's 
content, the traveller may add something more to 
what wonders he has already seen, and those poor 
beings, condemned to pass their summers in the 
noise and dust of a town, may inhale the otto of 



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white moss roses, as long as the sun will allow their 
weary limbs to stand over them. 

The want of shade is a great drawback to this 
garden, it is entirely exposed both to wind and sun. 
A jet d'eau in the centre, perhaps cools the air 
when it acts, but this is only on festivals. The 
frogs who inhabit the banks, have doubtless pre- 
sented a petition not to be disturbed ; if they hear 
a foot-step, they jump into the water, and then 
turn their heads up to see the passers by. 

Descending from the garden, terraces on the 
right and left, are appropriated to rows of plants in 
pots ; requiring protection in winter, but the rest of 
the year, breathing the open air. Still lower, the 
ground is occupied by beds of roses, (in great 
profusion, though not very varied), and shrubberies. 
American shrubs cannnot surely be in great perfec- 
tion in this sandy soil, nothing being more unlike 
the bog-earth they are said to require, yet the 
purple and yellow of the azalias and rhododen- 
drons had a good effect. The conservatories 
and green-houses are very handsome, in length 
about one-hundred and forty feet, consisting of a 
dome rotunda and wings. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 63 

Many valuable plants will present themselves, 
but those most likely to be generally interesting, 
are the Indian-rubber tree, several kinds of palm, 
both from Africa and India, the plantain, the 
pappaw, the date, the mocha coffee, the aloe, 
and the elephant's foot. 

We read of these tropical productions ; we hear 
our friends describe them ; and we are struck with 
pleased surprise to behold them before our own 
eyes ; and yet, looking at them in a conservatory, 
we experience an indescribable sensation of doubt ; 
there are so many, so close together, they grow so 
unnaturally still, without a breath of air to move 
their leaves, that it does require an effort to believe 
that what we see did reach us from so far a land, 
and is a living natural tree, instead of an artificial 
object of curiosity. But the interest felt will take 
a deeper hue, if these inhabitants of distant climes 
are associated with the remembrance of beloved 
friends, absent or lost to us for ever ; with a melan- 
choly gratification we examine those leaves and 
fruits beheld by their eyes, touched by their hands ; 
for the instant we seem nearer to them, forgetting 
the thousands of miles of separation, forgetting 
the sad chances of one hour of this mortal life. 



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Numerous species of cactus, some of immense 
size, are in the windows, and every kind of smaller 
plant. Those sufficiently multiplied are allowed to 
be sold, reserving a full stock for the Horticultural 
Society, to whom the whole belongs. Exhibitions 
are given once in ten months ; the garden then 
becomes a resort of all the fashionables, and a ball 
in the conservatory, offers another allurement to 
the light of heart and foot; but in the fetes of 
September, commemorative of the revolution, the 
illuminations render the scene still more brilliant. 

Some fountains and vases add to the appearance 
of the whole; also one statue of a gladiator, but 
his eyes rest on red roses, instead of the blood- 
stained arena. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



65 



IX. 

Sentiment, and sentimental! how different is the 
true meaning of these two words ; yet how often 
are they misused for each other. Sentiment, is an 
exclusive possession of your own; sentimental, 
belongs to others. Sentiment is that exquisite 
perception of the beautiful, which seizes on the 
essence of every refined and exalted feeling, cre- 
ating an inward enjoyment of the soul; which 
seeks for no display, but rather shrinks from the 
expression of those ideas seldom understood, and 
still more rarely appreciated. True sentiment of 
character is so perfectly natural, so foreign to all 
artifice, that it will live for ever, concealed in the 
inmost recesses of the heart, rather than encounter 
the sneer of ridicule, or the pitying smile of 
incredulity. When the heart speaks, it asks a 
corresponding warmth, and should it find none, the 
chill of disappointment will check its effusions on 



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LETTERS. 



the very lips, thankful even to escape the stigma of 
having spoken for effect, or, in other words, been 
sentimental. 

Would you express the reverse of sentiment, 
employ the word sentimental ;— ever seeking to 
attract notice; using words which are said, but 
never felt. Occupied with its own vanity, without 
a soul capable of even understanding those beauties 
it labours to point out; and failing, after all its 
exertions, to produce any other impression than 
that of disgust. So much indeed has the imitation 
deteriorated the charm of the original, that we 
absolutely fear to give language to some of 
our most beautiful thoughts. It is universally 
allowed, that the love of flowers is inseparable 
from good taste. Some, they please by their 
perfumed loveliness; others look farther, and are 
never weary of admiring in them the power and 
parental goodness of that Providence, which created 
them for our benefit and innocent enjoyment ; and 
even those who regard them only as an ornament, 
who gather them, (not to contemplate their sweet 
beauty, or silently bless the Almighty Being, whose 
word summoned into existence their unnumbered 



FROM BRUSSELS. 67 

forms, thus offering the homage of a grateful heart, 
all we can give in return for such providing love), 
but, that their freshness may heighten the charms 
of the hand that bears them— even these, join in 
the general admiration, and prove that flowers are 
pleasing to all. 

The refinement of the French, has induced them 
to invest flowers with the fascinating attribute of 
communicating their sentiments. Has not eloquence 
called to its aid, a bewitching influence ? We may 
turn a deaf ear to the voice of the charmer, but 
who can resist the speaking grace of a flower ?— 

The following translations from Aime Martin's 
pretty work, "Le Langage des Fleurs," will teach 
us to understand their silent oratory. 



LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 

Flowers, says Pliny, " are the joy of the shrubs 
which bear them;" this sublime observer might 
also l\ave said, and of those who love them, and 
cultivate them. 

Interpreters of our gentlest feelings, the language 
of flowers lends itself to all the illusions of a tender 
heart, and of a lively imagination. 



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In times of chivalry, respectful and faithful love, 
often borrowed this language ; which also gives its 
charms to friendship, gratitude, filial love, and 
parental affection; misfortune even calls it to its 
aid. 

The Chinese have an alphabet, composed entirely 
of plants, and roots; and the Egyptians represented 
their conquests, by foreign vegetables. 

This language then, is coeval with our earliest 
records ; but the freedom of our manners has 
almost condemned it to form one of the amuse- 
ments of the seraglios of the East. We have 
borrowed from the ancients, and from the Orientals, 
most of the emblems which this work contains; 
little study is necessary to understand this science. 
The first rule, consists in remembering, that a 
flower, presented upright, expresses a thought, and 
by simply reversing it, a contrary idea is conveyed 
— for instance, a rose bud, with its thorns and 
leaves, means, " I fear, but I hope if this same 
rose bud is returned, reversed, it will mean, " you 
must neither fear, nor hope." It is even easy to 
express different modifications of feeling, by the 
same flower; the rose bud deprived of its thorns 



FROM BRUSSELS. 69 

will say, " there is every thing to hope," deprived 
of its leaves, it would express, i( there is every 
thing to fear." You may also vary the expression 
of almost every flower, by altering its position. 
The marygold, for instance, placed on the head, 
signifies, the sorrows of the mind; on the heart, 
the sorrows of love ; on the bosom, ennui. Another 
rule is, that the pronoun myself, is expressed by 
inclining the flower to the right, and yourself by 
inclining it to the left. Such being the first 
principles of this mysterious language, let us pro- 
ceed to study the meanings of the different flowers, 
arranged according to their respective seasons. 



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X. 

SPRING. 

grass : 

UTILITY. 

To which plant would you award the prize of 
utility ? No plant can be more useful, than the 
grass of the field ; it grows without labour, whilst 
all others require care and cultivation. It affords 
a resting place to man ; it is to be found in every 
land ; the little birds eat its grains ; the animals 
feed on it ; and man can even live, on the milk of 
these animals. 

If we bring the common saying to our aid, that 
the most useful things are always the most common, 
what is there more common than the grass of the 
field? 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



71 



THE WILLOW OF BABYLON : 
MELANCHOLY. 

Alone on the brink of the water, behold the 
Willow of Babylon ; a stranger, it mourns on our 
shores; do not its leaves unceasingly murmur, 
" absence is the greatest of evils !" a barbarous 
hand, banishing it from its native soil, has separated 
it for ever from the object of its affection. 

Each spring, deceived by false hopes, it crowns 
its long tresses with flowers; it asks from the breeze, 
those caresses which ought to embellish its life ; 
bending over the bosom of the stream, it mistakes 
its own reflection, and seeks happiness in the 
unsubstantial shadow, which ever presenting itself, 
still eludes its grasp. Vain search ! neither the 
zephyr, nor the nymphs of the stream, can restore 
what it has lost, and what it always desires. 



the chestnut: 

LUXURY. 

For two centuries this tree has inhabited our 
climate ; but does not yet deign to mix its proud 
head with the other trees of our forests ; it loves 
to embellish parks, to adorn chateaus, and to shade 



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the dwellings of kings. Standing alone, nothing 
can equal the elegance of its pyramidal form ; the 
beauty of its foliage, and the richness of its flowers ; 
which give it the appearance of an immense lustre 
covered with crystals. 

Friend of pomp, and riches, it covers with flowers 
the green turf which it protects, loads the atmosphere 
with perfume, and offers to luxury a delightful 
shade ; but it bestows on the poor, only useless 
timber, and bitter fruit; sometimes granting him 
the pittance of fuel from its dried leaves, 

Naturalists and physicians, have given to this 
child of India, a thousand good qualities which it 
does not possess. Thus this tree, like the rich 
man on whom it lavishes its charms, finds flatterers, 
does a little good in spite of itself, and astonishes 
the vulgar by a useless display. 



lilac : 

first sensations of love. 
The Lilac has been consecrated to the first sensa- 
tion of love, because nothing is more delightful 
than the approach of Spring, of which this flower is 
the messenger. The freshness of its verdure, the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 73 

flexibility of its branches, the abundance of its 
blossoms — their beauty so short, so transient, their 
colour so tender, and varied, all recall those 
emotions, which embellish beauty, and give grace 
to youth. 

No painter has ever been able to blend colours 
soft enough, or fresh enough to portray the velvet 
delicacy, and sweetness of those light tints, on 
the forehead of youth. Van Spaendonck himself, 
unrivalled in flower painting, let fall his pencil 
before a bunch of lilac. The gradation of colour, 
from the purple bud, to the open flower, is the least 
attraction of these charming masses, around which 
light plays, and loses itself in a thousand shades ; 
all of which, blending in the same tint, form that 
harmony which makes the painter despair. 

What a re-union, of perfume, of freshness, of 
grace, of delicacy, of detail, and of a whole ! 



THE ALMOND TREE : 
FICKLENESS. 

An emblem of fickleness, the almond tree is the 
first to answer the call of spring ; nothing has a 
more lovely effect than this tree, when it appears 

E 



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in the first days of March, covered with flowers, in 
the midst of trees, still unclothed. The later frosts 
often destroy the precocious germ of its fruit, but 
by a singular effect, the flowers, far from being 
injured, appear to have gained fresh brilliancy. 
An avenue of almond trees, quite white in the 
evening, struck with the frost in the night, will 
appear rose colour the next morning, and will 
preserve this new dress, for more than a month, 
and only relinquish it for the green foliage. 

Fiction gives an affecting origin to the almond 
tree; it relates, that Demaphoon, the son of 
Theseus and Phedra, was cast by a tempest, return- 
ing from the siege of Troy, on the coast of Thrace, 
where the beautiful Phyllis then reigned; this 
young Queen welcomed the Prince, fell in love 
with him, and married him ; recalled to Athens, by 
the death of his father, Demaphoon promised 
Phyllis to return in a month, and fixed the day. 
The tender Phyllis counted all the minutes of his 
absence. At length the long wished for day arrived, 
Phyllis ran nine times to the shore, but having lost 
all hope, she died of grief, and was changed into 
an almond tree. However, Demaphoon returned, 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



75 



three months afterwards; in despair, he offered a 
sacrifice on the sea shore, to appease the manes of 
his beloved. She appeared sensible of his repent- 
ance, and of his return ; for the almond tree which 
enclosed her in its bark, instantly blossomed. She 
proved by this last effort, that death itself had 
wrought no change in her affections. 



periwinkle : 

PLEASANT RECOLLECTIONS. 

Let us now approach the woods; the anemony 
and periwinkle, twine a long wreath of verdure, 
and flowers; these two plants lend each other 
mutual charms; the leaves of the anemony are 
soft, deeply indented, and of a tender green ; those 
of the periwinkle, are dark, firm, and shining ; 
its flower is blue, whilst that of the anemony is of 
a pure white, edged with pink ; the latter lasts but 
for a day ; it recalls to us, the lively and fleeting 
joys of our childhood. The periwinkle is con- 
secrated to a more lasting happiness, its colour is 
chosen by friendship, and its flow T er is an emblem 
of the sweetest remembrances. 



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This plant, a charming portrait of a first affection, 
attaches itself strongly to the earth, which it 
adorns; it entwines it with its flexible fibres, it 
covers it with flowers which reflect the azure of the 
sky. Thus our first sentiments, so lively, so pure, 
so natural, appear to have a celestial origin ; they 
mark our days with happiness, and we owe to 
them our sweetest thoughts. 



the tulip: 
declaration of love. 

On the banks of the Bosphorus, the tulip is the 

emblem of inconstancy, but also of the most violent 

love; under the name of tulipan or turban, it covers 

th« haughty forehead of those Turks, who adore its 

flower and give chains to beauty. 

Worshippers of its elegant stalk, and of the 

graceful vase which crowns it, they are never weary 

of admiring the stripes of gold, of silver, of purple, 

of lilac, of violet, of deep red, of light rose, of 

yellow, of brown, of white, and of so many other 

shades, which sport, mingle, and separate on its 

rich petals, without ever being confused. In the 

seraglio of the Grand Seignior, each spring brings 



FROM BRUSSELS. 77 

with it, the celebration of the feast of tulips. 
Scaffoldings and galleries are raised ; amphitheatres 
are erected; these are covered with the richest 
carpets, loaded with an infinite number of crystal 
vases, containing the most beautiful tulips in the 
world. 

In the evening, all is illuminated; the most 
exquisite perfumes are diffused around, coloured 
lamps shine on all sides, like garlands of opals, 
emeralds, sapphires, diamonds, and rubies ; a num- 
ber of birds in golden cages, awoke by this spectacle, 
blend their warblings with the melodious sounds of 
instruments, played by invisible musicians ; a 
shower of rose-water refreshes the air, the doors 
are opened, and the young Orientals add the lustre 
of their charms, and their dresses, to this fairy-like 
festival. In the centre of the seraglio, is the 
pavilion of the Grand Seignior ; the sultan negli- 
gently extended on cushions, lies surrounded by 
gifts from the nobles of his court ; yet a cloud is on 
his brow. What ! has grief penetrated to this all 
powerful mortal ; has he lost one of his provinces ? 
does he fear the revolt of his proud Janissaries ? 
No ! two poor slaves alone, have disturbed his 



78 LETTERS 

repose; during the solemnities of tlie festival, he 
saw a tulip presented to the beauty who has capti- 
vated him ; a vague uneasiness has entered his 
heart ; jealousy torments and overcomes him; but 
what avail bolts and chains against love ! A look 
and a flower, have changed the prison of a seraglio 
into a paradise, and have revenged insulted beauty. 



THE WATER LILY : 
CALM. TRANQUILLITY. 

By the side of that lake, whose silver water reflects 
an unclouded sky, do you see those clusters as 
white as snow ? a rose tint slightly colours the 
outside of these beautiful flowers, and a tuft of 
filaments of great delicacy and dazzling whiteness, 
escapes from their alabaster cups. No words can 
do justice to the elegance of this plant. Once seen, 
gently balancing itself on the brink of the water, 
it will never be forgotten. The water lily never 
flowers on stormy days, it requires serenity, and 
this serenity, which it enjoys, it appears to spread 
around it. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



79 



THE HAWTHORN : 
HOPE. 

Let all be enlivened with hope and joy : the swallow 
appears in the sky; the nightingale mourns in the 
wood ; the flowers of the hawthorn announce the 
duration of fine weather. 

Vine-dressers, reassure yourselves — the cold wind 
will not again cut off those tender shoots, the hope 
of your long labour. Happy labourers, your verdant 
plains shall not be blighted. 

The Troglodytes, who recall the golden age by 
their simple manners, covered those friends whom 
death had carried off, with branches of hawthorn ; 
for they regarded death as the dawn of an existence, 
where separation would be unknown. 

At Athens, young girls carried branches of haw- 
thorn to the marriages of their companions; the 
altar of Hymen was lighted by torches made of the 
wood of this tree. Thus we see it has always been 
the emblem of Hope ; it foretells to us lovely days ; 
it promised to the Greeks happy marriages, and 
to the wise Troglodytes, immortal life. 



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PRIMROSE ! 
EARLY YOUTH. 

The flowers of the primrose denote that season of 
the year, when retiring winter sees the edge of its 
snowy mantle embroidered with verdure and 
flowers. The season of frost is past, that of fine 
weather is not yet come. Thus a young girl stands 
between childhood and youth, she has scarcely 
attained her fifteenth year ; she can no longer share 
in the merry games of her young companions, yet 
still her heart is there; she looks at them; she 
wishes, like them, to form the primrose wreaths. But 
these innocent joys no longer satisfy her, brighter 
hopes arise, and she looks forward to a smiling 
future. Poor girl ! the return of the primrose tells 
you, that the happy time of your childhood will 
never come again ; and in a few more years, it 
will also say, youth and its bright hopes are for 
ever fled 



from brussels. 81 
myrtle: 

LOVE. 

In every age, the oak has been consecrated to Ju- 
piter; the laurel to Apollo; the olive to Minerva; 
and the myrtle to Venus. A perpetual verdure, 
perfumed branches loaded with flowers, and which 
appear destined to adorn the brow of love, have 
gained for the myrtle, the honour of being dedi- 
cated to Venus. A myrtle-crown also shares the 
privileges of the laurel, and encircles the victor's 
brow. 

Although, no longer, triumphs are celebrated 
in the capitol, the Roman ladies have preserved 
their passion for this pretty shrub ; they prefer its 
odour to that of the most precious essences, and 
pour into their baths, water distilled from its leaves, 
persuaded, that the tree of Venus is favourable to 
beauty. If the ancients then had this idea, if it 
was to them also an emblem of love, it was, 
because they had observed, that the myrtle seizes 
on the ground in which it is planted, to the 
exclusion of all other shrubs. Thus love, master 
of a heart, leaves no room in it for any other 
sentiment. 



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acanthus: 

THE ARTS. 

The acanthus loves a sunny clime, but it will also 
grow with us. 

The ancients adorned their furniture, their vases, 
and their festal garments with its leaves. Virgil 
says, that Helen's robe was embroidered with 
a wreath of acanthus. 

This charming model of the arts has become their 
emblem, and might also serve for that of genius. 
If any obstacle opposes the growth of the acanthus, 
it redoubles its efforts, and vegetates with fresh 
vigour. Thus, true genius only discovers in the 
difficulties which present themselves, a fresh stimulus 
to exertion. The architect, Callimachus, passing 
by the tomb of a young girl, whose death took 
place before a happy marriage, approached to cast 
some flowers on it ; but another offering had 
preceded his; the nurse of this girl, collecting 
some flowers, together with the veil which should 
have covered her at the altar, placed them in a 
little basket, and put it near the grave, under 
an acanthus plant, afterwards covering it with a 
large tile. The following spring, the leaves of the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



83 



acanthus surrounded the basket, but stopped in 
their growth by the edges of the tile, they grace- 
fully turned their heads again to the earth. Cal- 
limachus charmed with this rural decoration, which 
appeared a work of the weeping Graces, designed 
from it the capital of the Corinthian column, 
which we still admire and imitate. 



bugloss : 

deception. 

La Bruyere has said, that "if women were to be 
naturally what they make themselves by artificial 
means; if they were to lose in a moment all the 
freshness of their complexion ; if their faces always 
wore that heightened and loaded colour which 
rouge and paint give, they would be inconsolable." 
This truth cannot be disputed; and yet, from the 
north to the south, from the east to the west, 
among savages, and amongst polished nations, the 
passion for paint is universal. The wish to please 
misleads equally the daughter of the desert, and the 
civilized beauty ; for the highest degree of civiliza- 
tion is that which brings us back to nature, and to 



84 LETTERS 

the good taste inseparable from it. This flower 
is used as the emblem of deception, because its 
root serves for the composition of several sorts of 
paint. That composition, of which it is the chief 
ingredient, is the oldest and least dangerous of all ; 
it unites even several advantages; it lasts several 
days without being effaced ; water revives it, as if it 
were the natural complexion, and it does not destroy 
the skin, which it is intended to adorn. But would 
we please for long, would we please for ever, let us 
dismiss deception from our hearts, from our lips, 
and from our faces; and say with the poet, 
" nothing is beautiful but truth, truth alone is 
lovely.'' 

HONEYSUCKLE : 
LINKS OF AFFECTION. 

Weakness pleases strength, and often gives it 
charms. I have sometimes seen a young honey- 
suckle attach its delicate tendrils round the knotted 
trunk of an old oak ; we might fancy that this 
feeble plant, throwing itself on the air, aimed at 
surpassing in height the king of the forest, but 
soon, as if feeling the futility of its efforts," we see 
it gracefully fall back, and encircle the head of its 
friend with perfumed garlands. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



85 



lucerne: 

EXISTENCE. 

Lucerne long occupies the same ground, but when 
it forsakes it, it is for ever. It thus offers an 
emblem of life. Nothing is more lovely than a 
field of lucerne in full bloom, it spreads before our 
eyes like a carpet of green and violet ; beloved by 
the husbandman, it lavishes on him an abun- 
dant harvest, without requiring any labour ; it is 
cut down, it grows again ; a native of our climes, 
it is a gift direct from heaven. We possess it 
without effort, we enjoy it without thought, without 
gratitude. We often prefer to it a flower, whose 
only merit is a transient brightness. So in life, 
we too often quit a certain happiness, to run after 
useless pleasures, which ever elude our grasp. 



LILY OF THE VALLEY: 
RETURN OF HAPPINESS. 

The lily of the valley loves the most sheltered 
spot ; the shade of the oak, or the brink of the 
stream ; in the beginning of May its flowers open, 
and shed their perfume on the air. At this signal, 



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the nightingale leaves our hedges and our groves, 
and seeks in the bosom of the forest a retreat, a 
companion, and an echo which will answer its voice. 
Led by the perfume of the lily of the valley, this 
enchanting bird soon chooses its asylum, and 
celebrates with melodious warblings, solitude, love, 
and that flower which yearly announces the return 
of happiness. 



privet : 
prohibition. 

Why, said a young mother to the venerable pastor 
of her village, did you not plant a strong fence of 
thorns, intead of that hedge of flowery privet, 
which encloses your garden ? The pastor answer- 
ed, when you forbid your child a dangerous 
amusement, the prohibition is softened by a tender 
smile, by a caressing look; and if he rebel, your 
maternal hands offer him some plaything to comfort 
him ; so the pastor's hedge should keep off the 
imprudent, without causing any injury, and should 
offer flowers even to those it repulses. 



FROM BRUSSELS, 



87 



common briar: 
solitude. 

The meadows will be covered with flowers, the 
plains with harvest, the hills with green vines, and 
the mountains with dark forests. Happy peasants, 
you may dance in the meadow, crown yourselves 
with the wreaths of Ceres, rejoice in the gifts of 
Bacchus, and repose in the shade of the forest. 
You may, — for all is joy to the happy; whilst I, 
guided by melancholy, will wander to those desert 
places where the humble briar, lover of solitude, 
disputes with man the occupation of the ground. 



narcissus: 
self-love. 

The narcissus of the poets has a sweet scent; it 
bears a golden crown, in the centre of a large 
flower white as ivory, and slightly curved; it 
appears natural to our climates ; it loves the shade, 
and the coolness of the stream. The ancients 
beheld in this flower, the metamorphosis of a young 
shepherd, whom love punished for his indifference, 
by a fatal illusion. A thousand nymphs loved the 



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beautiful Narcissus; but in vain. Echo, plaintive 
Echo, was scorned by him ; she was then beautiful, 
but grief and shame effaced her beauty ; the gods 
took pity on her, they changed her emaciated 
limbs into stone, but they could not cure her soul, 
which still mourns in those solitary spots, where 
she hopelessly followed her beloved. Fatigued 
with hunting, and with the heat which parched the 
ground, Narcissus reposed on the brink of a stream, 
whose limpid waters had never been disturbed. 

The shepherd leant over the pure crystal to 
quench his thirst, and was so struck with the beauty 
of his countenance, that, his eyes fixed on this 
shadow, he remained immoveable. Love, to re- 
venge himself on a rebellious heart, embellished 
this image with all the fires he could inspire; then 
laughed at the folly, abandoning his victim to the 
delirium which consumed him. Echo alone, a 
witness of his grief, his tears, his sighs, the mad 
vows which he addressed to himself, feelingly 
answered his complaint, and gave back his last 
adieu, though not addressed to her. In his dying 
moments, he still sought the shadow which had 
enchanted him, and demanded it again from the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



89 



dark waters of the Styx. The Naiads, his sisters, 
deplored his loss, and covering his body with their 
long tresses, entreated the Dryads to raise a funeral 
pile. Echo followed these nymphs, and gave back 
their lamentations; with the sounds of despair the 
pile was raised, but the body it was to consume, no 
longer existed. In its place, was found a pale and 
melancholy flower, bending over the stream, like 
Narcissus over the waters of the Styx. From this 
day the fairies wear a wreath of these flowers, 
which they have consecrated to self-love, of all 
passions the most sad and fatal. 



LINDEN TREE : 
CONJUGAL AFFECTION. 

Baucis was changed into a linden tree. The 
linden tree is an emblem of conjugal affection. 
We can never be weary of admiring the justice 
with which the qualities of those plants, consecrated 
by Heathen Mythology, are adapted to the person 
they are intended to represent. Beauty, grace, 
simplicity, extreme mildness, innocent gaiety, such 
should always be the attributes of a tender wife. 



90 



LETTERS 



All these qualities will be found in the linden tree, 
which clothes itself each spring, with so lovely a 
green; which wreathes such sweet odours; which 
lavishes on the young bees, the honey of its 
flowers, and gives its flexible branches for the 
manufacture of so many pretty works; all is useful 
in this tree ; we drink the infusion of its flowers, 
and weave its bark into cloth, ropes, and hats, 
The haughty chestnut, the light acacia, have tried 
to take its place in avenues and public walks ; but 
nothing shall banish it from us. Let it ever be the 
ornament of the gardens of the rich, and the bene- 
factor of the poor, to whom it gives clothing, 
furniture, shoes, shade in summer, and warmth in 
winter. 



STRAWBERRIES : 
PERFECT GOODNESS. 

This humble plant delights in our woods, and 
covers their borders with its delicious fruits, which 
belong to those who will gather them. 

A charming gift, which nature has saved from 
the grasp of exclusive appropriation, and loves to 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



91 



bestow alike on all her children. The flowers of 
the strawberry make pretty bouquets ; but what 
cruel hand by plucking them, would rob the future 
of its fruits ? 

Among the glaciers of the Alps, when the 
traveller parched with the sun, overcome with 
fatigue, surrounded by rocks as old as the world 
itself, and by forests half uprooted by the ava- 
lanche ; seeks in vain for the shelter of a cottage, 
for the refreshment of a stream, he unexpectedly 
sees, troops of young girls approaching him with 
baskets of strawberries ; they appear on all the 
eminences, and at the bottom of every precipice. 
Each rock, each tree, seems guarded by one of those 
nymphs, whom Tasso has placed at the entrance 
of the garden of Armida. As fascinating, but less 
dangerous, the young Swiss peasants, by offering 
their baskets to the traveller, far from retarding his 
steps, give him strength to proceed. 

The learned Linnaeus was cured of frequent 
attacks of the gout by the use of strawberries, 
which have often restored health to the sick, when 
medicine has been of no avail. 



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LETTERS 



THYME : 
ACTIVITY. 

Flies of every form, beetles of every colour, 
industrious bees, and volatile butterflies unceas- 
ingly surround the flowering tufts of thyme. Per- 
haps this lowly plant appears to these winged 
inhabitants of the air (whose short existence is one 
spring) like an immense tree, as old as the earth ; 
covered with eternal verdure, and whose flowers 
shine like superb vases filled with honey for their 
use. The Greeks regarded thyme as the symbol 
of activity; perhaps they had observed, that its 
scent, which strengthens the brain, will also restore 
to old age, energy, activity, and vigour. Activity 
is a warlike virtue, always associated with true 
courage, wherefore, the beauties of former days 
presented to their knight, a scarf, on which was 
embroidered, a bee fluttering round a sprig of thyme. 
This double symbol would also denote, that he who 
had adopted it, should blend mildness with every 
action. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



93 



RED VALERIAN : 
FACILITY. 

Valerian with its red flowers has lately descended 
from the Alps into our gardens ; its dress is brilliant, 
but always a little disordered. This daughter of 
the mountains, preserves a rustic gait amongst our 
more civilized flowers ; however, it owes its rise to 
its merit, its root is excellent in many diseases, its 
infusion strengthens the sight, revives the spirits, 
and disperses melancholy ; its flowers last almost all 
the year; cultivation heightens their beauty, but 
they never disdain their lowly origin, and often 
quit our borders, to deck the side of a barren hill, 
or the top of a ruined wall. 



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LETTERS 



XL 
SUMMER. 

THE ROSE. 

WHAt poet has not sung the rose ? — its beauty 
cannot be exaggerated, or its praise perfected : it 
has been called with justice, daughter of the sky, 
ornament of the earth, and glory of the spring. 
Behold it rising from its elegant foliage surrounded 
by numerous buds ; we might fancy, that the queen 
of flowers was sporting with the breeze, decking 
herself with the drops of dew, and smiling on the 
rays of the sun; nature having lavished on her, 
freshness, beauty of form, perfume, splendour, and 
grace. The rose adorns the whole earth, it is the 
most common of flowers, it dies as soon as it has 
reached perfection, but each spring restores it to us 



FROM BRUSSELS. 95 

fresh and lovely. An emblem of every age, an 
interpreter of every feeling, the rose is blended 
with our joys and griefs. Innocent mirth is 
crowned with it, the modest blush borrows its hue, 
beauty is compared to it, it is the image of youth, 
innocence and pleasure ; it belongs to Venus ; and a 
rival of beauty itself, the rose, like her, possesses 
grace still more fascinating than beauty. 



a rose leaf: 
i never importune. 

There was at Amadan, an academy, whose statutes 
were couched in these terms, "the Academicians 
shall think much, write little, and speak less." 

Dr. Zebb, celebrated throughout the East, under- 
standing that there was a vacancy in this academy, 
hastened to obtain it ; but unfortunately arrived too 
late. The academy was in despair; it had just 
granted to power, what belonged only to merit. 
The president not knowing how to express a re- 
fusal, which reflected so much on the assembly, took 
a cup, and filled it so full with water, that one drop 
more would have made it overflow. The learned 



96 



LETTERS 



candidate understood by this emblem, that there 
was no place for him, and was sorrowfully retiring, 
when he perceived a rose-leaf at his feet. At this 
sight he took courage, he picked up the rose-leaf, 
and placed it so gently on the water that not a 
single drop escaped. At this ingenious trait every 
one clapped their hands, and the Doctor was 
received with applause, among the number of silent 
Academicians. 



A CROWN OF ROSES: 
A REWARD OF VIRTUE. 

Saint Medard, Bishop of Noyou, born at Salency, 
of an illustrious family, instituted in his birth place 
the most touching prize that piety has ever offered 
to virtue. This prize is a simple crown of roses, 
but to obtain it you must be acknowledged by all 
your rivals, by all the girls of the village, as the 
most submissive, the most modest, and the best 
informed. 

The sister of Saint Medard in 532, was the first 
to receive this crown from the hands of the founder, 



FROM BRUSSELS. 97 

and she bequeathed it, with the examples of her 
virtues, to the companions of her childhood. 

Time, which has overthrown so many empires, 
which has broken the sceptre of so many kings, 
has respected the crown of Salency. 



moss rose: 
love. 

Looking at the moss rose, with its thorns, its 
points, and its cup, surrounded by a green and soft 
verdure, we might say that luxury had contested 
with love for this beautiful flower. 

Madame de Genlis assures us, that at her return 
from England, all Paris came to her house, to 
admire the first rose of this kind. Madame de 
Genlis was already celebrated, and the rose tree 
was undoubtedly only an excuse for the crowd 
which surrounded her, her modesty alone left her 
in ignorance ; for this rose, a native of Provence, 
has been known for several centuries. 



F 



98 



LETTERS 



A BOUQUET OF FULL-BLOWN ROSES. 

These flowers invite the rich to do good ; grati- 
tude is sweeter than their perfume, and the reign 
of power is often more transient than their beauty. 



a white and a red rose. 

The poet Bonnefous sent the object of his affec- 
tion two roses; one white, and the other of the 
most brilliant carnation ; the white to represent the 
paleness of his countenance, and the carnation the 
warmth of his heart. 



a rose tree in the midst of a tuft of grass. 

Every thing is to be gained from good company. 
" One day," says the poet Sadi, "I saw arose tree 
surrounded by a tuft of grass: What ! I exclaimed, 
has this plant done, that we find it the companion of 
roses ? and I was going to uproot the turf, when it 
humbly said, 6 Spare me; I am no rose, it is true, 
but by my scent you may know at least, I have 
lived with roses.' " 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



99 



ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF ROSES. 

To embellish the lessons of wisdom, the Muses 
have often borrowed a rose from love. These 
lovely flowers, emblems of pleasure, mark also its 
short duration. The search after happiness, is to 
it, what the rose bud is to the rose. Modesty 
should defend beauty, as the thorn defends the rose. 
The old man who talks of love to a young girl, is 
like the autumn wind, which withers the rose 
before it blooms. A young woman without her 
mother's protection in the world, is like a faded 
rose. 



white jessamine: 
amiability. 

There are some persons gifted with so happy a 
disposition, that they appear thrown on the world 
to be the links of society : they have so much ease 
and grace of manner, that they support every 
situation ; accommodate themselves to every taste, 
and make every thing appear in its most pleasing 
light; they are so obliging, that they take an 
interest in all you say, forget themselves to serve 
you, and are silent to listen to you ; they do not 



100 



LETTERS 



flatter, they do not pretend, and they never give 
offence ; their merit is a gift of heaven, like that 
of a pretty face ; in short they please, because 
nature has made them amiable. 

The jessamine appears created on purpose to be 
the happy symbol of amiability. When in 1560 
it was brought from India by the Spanish navi- 
gators, we admired the lightness of its branches, 
and the delicate lustre of its starry flowers, and we 
thought that to preserve so elegant a plant it must 
be put in a hot-house : this appeared to suit it ; it 
was tried in an orangery, it succeeded there wonder- 
fully well ; it was hazarded in the open air, where, 
without requiring any care, it now braves our 
severest winters. The amiable jessamine bends its 
flexible branches at our pleasure, lavishes on us its 
harvest of flowers, which embalm, refresh, and 
purify the air of our groves ; these delicate flowers 
offer the light butterfly, cups worthy of him, and 
the industrious bees, an exquisite, abundant, and 
perfumed honey. The shepherd unites the jessa- 
mine with the rose, to adorn the bosom of his 
shepherdess; and often this simple bouquet, wreathed 
in garlands, crowns the brow of the princess. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 101 

We are told that before its arrival in France, 
the jessamine sojourned in Italy: a Duke of Tus- 
cany was its first possessor : tormented by envy, 
this Duke wished to enjoy alone, so charming a 
possession, and forbade his gardener to give away 
a single stalk, a single flower. The gardener 
would have been faithful, had he never known love; 
but he prepared a bouquet, for the birth-day of his 
mistress, and to make it still more precious, added 
a branch of jessamine. 

The young girl, to preserve the freshness of this 
foreign flower, put it in the ground ; the branch 
remained green all the year, and the following 
spring was covered with flowers ; she profited by 
the instructions of her lover, and cultivated her 
jessamine, which multiplied itself under her tender 
care. She was poor, her lover was not rich, a 
prudent mother refused to unite their poverty ; 
but love had worked a miracle for them, and the 
girl profited by it; she sold her jessamines, and 
sold them so well, that she amassed a little treasure, 
with which she enriched her lover. The girls of 
Tuscany, to preserve the remembrance of this 
adventure, always wear a bouquet of jessamine on 



102 



LETTERS 



their marriage day ; and they have a saying, that a 
girl, worthy to wear this bouquet, is rich enough 
to make the fortune of her husband. 



the pink: 
pure affection. 

The primitive pink is single, red and perfumed; 
cultivation has doubled its petals and varied its 
colours. These beautiful flowers are painted with 
a thousand shades, from a pale rose to a perfect 
white, and from a deep red, to a brilliant scarlet ; 
we also see on the same flower, two of these colours, 
which strive together, oppose each other, and are 
mingled. The pure white is tipped with crimson, 
and the rose colour becomes a brilliant red. We 
also see these flowers, mottled, striped, and some- 
times abruptly bisected, so that the deceived eye 
might imagine the same calyx held a purple flower 
and a white one. Almost as varied in form, as in 
colour, it still preserves its delicious perfume, and 
tries unceasingly to exchange its foreign garb for its 
native simple clothing. The hand of the gardener 
may double, treble, stripe, and vary its dress, but 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



103 



cannot render it constant. Thus has nature placed 
in our hearts, the seed of the most delightful senti- 
ment. Art, and society, by unfolding and culti- 
vating this seed, embellish it, weaken it, or exalt 
it. A hundred causes may render its effects incon- 
stant, and variable; but in spite of the caprices, 
the errors, and the incomprehensible windings of 
the human heart, nature always brings back affec- 
tion to its pristine simplicity. 



verbena : 

ENCHANTMENT. 

If our botanists would affix a moral idea to each 
plant they describe, an universal dictionary might 
thus be compiled, understood by every nation, and 
durable as the world itself, renewed by each return- 
ing spring, and never altering its characters. 

The altars of Jupiter are overthrown ; the forests, 
silent witnesses of the mysteries of the Druids, 
exist no more ; the pyramids of Egypt will be lost, 
like the sphynx, in the sand of the desert ; but the 
lotus and the acanthus will ever flourish on the 
banks of the Nile, the misletoe will grow on the 
oak, and vervain on the barren hills. 



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LETTERS 



Vervain was used by the ancients in many kinds 
of divinations, a thousand properties were attributed 
to it ; amongst others, that of reconciling enemies, 
and when the Romans sent heralds to offer a nation 
peace, or war, one of them was the bearer of a 
branch of vervain. The Druids had the greatest 
veneration for this plant, and before gathering it, 
offered a sacrifice on the ground. The worshippers 
of the sun held in their hands branches of vervain. 
Victorious Venus wore a myrtle crown entwined 
with vervain; and the Germans even now, give a 
chaplet of vervain to a bride, thus commending her 
to the care of this goddess. 

In our northern provinces, the shepherds gather 
this sacred plant, with mysterious words and cere- 
monies ; they extract the juice by moonlight, and 
by turns perform cures, and make themselves feared; 
for if they know how to calm trouble, they can also 
cast a spell over their flocks and the hearts of their 
young companions. We are assured that vervain 
gives this latter power, if they are young and hand- 
some : thus we see that vervain is with us, as it 
was with the ancients, the herb of enchantment. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



105 



tares: 
vjce. 

The tare is the emblem of vice ; its stalk resembles 
that of wheat; it grows with the finest harvest. The 
dexterous hand of the husbandman carefully weeds 
out this bad herb, that he may not confound it with 
the good seed. Thus a prudent instructor should 
employ patience, to root out the bad inclinations 
which arise in a young heart ; but let him not stifle 
the seeds of virtue, whilst he believes he is only 
checking vice. The mother of Dugueselin com- 
plained that her son returned each day to the 
chateau, covered with dust and scratches ; one 
morning, she was preparing to punish him, but a 
nun who was present, after attentively observing 
him, said to her, " Beware of punishing the 
child, for the time will come, when these faults, 
of which you now complain, will prove the glory 
of his family, and the safeguard of his country." 
For one mother who is thus deceived, how many 
others foster the tares in the hearts of their chil- 
dren, and only at the time of harvest perceive they 
have taken root. 

f3 



106 



LETTERS 



THE MALLOW. 
BENEVOLENCE. 

Emblem of benevolence, the mallow is the friend 
of the poor. It grows freely by the side of 
the brook which allays his thirst, and around the 
cottage which he inhabits. It has neither bitter- 
ness nor roughness; its aspect is agreeable and 
mild ; its rose-coloured flowers harmonise with the 
leaves and stalks, which are covered with a silvery 
and a silky down. 

By its softness, it pleases equally the sight and 
the touch ; its flowers, its stalks, its leaves, and its 
root, are all good. Syrups, pastiles, and lozenges, 
grateful to the taste, and beneficial to the health, 
are prepared from its juices. 

The weary traveller has sometimes found in its 
root a wholesome and substantial food; he need 
only look at his feet, to discover proofs of the love 
and foresight of nature; but this tender mother 
often conceals among plants, as well as men, the 
highest virtues under the most modest appearance. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



107 



ACACIA. 
PLATONIC AFFECTION. 

The savages of America have consecrated the 
acacia to the genius of chaste love ; their bows are 
made of the incorruptible wood of this tree; their 
arrows are pointed with one of its thorns. These 
proud children of the desert, hitherto unsubdued, 
possess a sentiment full of delicacy; they cannot 
perhaps give language to it, but express it by a 
branch of flowering acacia. The young savage, as 
well as the town coquette, understands this language, 
and blushingly receives the homage of respectful 
love. It is scarcely a century since the forests of 
Canada have given us this beautiful tree; its light 
and graceful foliage, its perfumed flowers, and its 
fresh verdure appear to prolong Spring. The 
nightingale confides her nest to this new inhabitant 
of our climes, and as if reassured by its long thorns, 
which protect her family, descends to the lower 
branches of the tree, to indulge us with her ex- 
quisite notes. 



108 



LETTERS 



THE lily: 
MAJESTY. 

From the midst of a tuft of long leaves, folding- 
back over each other, as if to form a circular throne 
of verdure, the lily, gently bending, demands and 
obtains the homage of all nature; but notwith- 
standing its charms, it requires a court to give its 
beauty full effect. Alone, it looks cold and desolate; 
surrounded by other flowers, it eclipses them all; 
it is a king, its grace is majesty. The lily came 
from Syria, and formerly adorned the altars of the 
God of Israel, and crowned the forehead of Solo- 
mon. Charlemagne made it share with the rose 
the glory of perfuming his garden; and if we are 
to believe the tradition of our ancestors, the valiant 
Clovis received a heavenly lily on the day when 
victory and the Christian faith were bestowed upon 
him. Louis VII. beheld in the flowers of the lily 
the triple symbol of his beauty, his name, and his 
power: he placed them on his shield, on his seal, 
and on the coin. Philip Augustus emblazoned 
them on his standard. St. Louis wore a ring re- 
presenting in relief on enamel, a garland of lilies 



FROM BRUSSELS. 109 

and asters; on the interior of the ring was engraved 
a crucifix with these words; "besides this ring, 
what is there to love!" because this ring offered 
to this pious monarch the emblem of all he held 
dear, — religion, France, and his queen. It was a 
religious idea which induced Charles V. to limit 
the number of his fleur-de-lis to three; since his 
reign this number has not varied; but if, since the 
time of Clovis, the celestial lily has shone on the 
mantle and the escutcheon of our kings, it also gave 
its colour to the standard of our warriors. The 
plume of Henry IV. who always led the French to 
victory, was as white as a lily; it was the emblem 
of a pure soul and an unspotted glory. 



GILLI FLOWER : 
DURABLE BEAUTY. 

The gilliflower, less graceful than the rose, less 
proud than the lily, has a more lasting beauty ; 
constant in its benefits, it offers us all the year its 
red and pyramidal flowers, wafting a scent which 
charms the senses. The finest gilliflowers are red, 
and have given their name to their own colour, 



110 



LETTERS 



which rivals the Tyrian purple in brilliancy. White, 
violet, and variegated gilliflowers have also their 
charms: but since America, Asia, and Africa have 
sent us their splendid tributes, we have neglected 
this daughter of our climate so dear to our fore- 
fathers. Towards sunset, a balsamic odour exhales 
from its flowers, which, far from overpowering the 
senses, will refresh and strengthen them. This 
flower then, grows in our parterres like a lively 
and fresh beauty, blooming with health; health, the 
greatest of blessings, without which, there is neither 
happiness nor durable beauty. 



wh eat: 
riches. 

This plant appears to have been given by Provi- 
dence to mankind, together with fire, to secure to 
him the sceptre of the world. With wheat and 
fire, we may do without all other goods ; we may 
acquire them all. Man, with wheat alone, can feed 
all those domestic animals which support his exist- 
ence, and share his labour : the pig, the fowl, the 
duck, the pigeon, the sheep, the goat, the horse, 



FROM BRUSSELS. Ill 

the cow, the cat, and the dog ; which by a wonder- 
ful metamorphosis, give him back in return, eggs, 
milk, bacon, wool, service, affection, and gratitude. 
Wheat is the first link of society, because its 
culture and preparation require hard labour and 
mutual service ; for this reason, the ancients termed 
Ceres a lawgiver. An Arab lost in the desert, had 
been two days without food, and was near perishing 
with hunger. Passing by a well where the caravans 
stopped, he perceived on the sand a little leathern 
bag; he picked it up, " God be praised," said he, 
" I think it is some flour;" he hastily opened the 
bag, but at the sight of what it contained, he ex- 
claimed, "Wretch that I am, it is only gold dust!" 



marigold: 

GRIEF. 

Every one knows this golden flower, which is an 
emblem of the sorrows of the mind; it possesses 
some remarkable properties. It flowers the whole 
year, wherefore the Romans called it " Flower of 
the calendar," that is to say, of all the months. 
Its flowers are only open from nine in the morning 



112 LETTERS 

until three in the afternoon, yet they still turn 
towards the sun, and follow his course from east to 
west. During the months of July and August, 
these flowers display small luminous sparks in the 
night. The sorrowful signification of the marigold 
may be varied in a hundred different ways: joined 
with roses, it signifies the pains of love ; alone, it 
expresses ennui ; wreathed with different flowers, it 
represents the uncertain chain of life, always a 
mixture of good and evil. In the east, marigolds 
and poppies, signify, "I will soothe your sorrows." 

Margaret of Orleans, the maternal grandmother 
of Henry IV., chose for a device, a marigold 
turning towards the sun; and for a motto, "I will 
follow him alone this virtuous princess meant 
that all her thoughts, her whole affection, turned 
towards heaven, like the marigold towards the sun. 



mignxonette: 

YOUR QUALITIES SURPASS YOUR CHARMS. 

Mignionette came from Egypt. Linnseus com- 
pared its perfume to that of ambrosia. This per- 
fume is sweeter and more penetrating at sunrise 



FROM BRUSSELS. 113 

and sunset than during the rest of the day. Mig- 
nionette flowers from the beginning of spring to 
the end of autumn; we may also enjoy it in winter 
by keeping it in a hot-house; it then becomes 
bushy, lives several years, and with a little care, 
forms a shrub of the prettiest effect. 

The arms of an illustrious Saxon family 9 are 
supported by a branch of mignionette. The fol- 
lowing is the occasion on which this modest flower 
was blended with the laurel. Amelia Nordbourgh 
was eighteen ; the brilliancy of her complexion, 
her wit, and her manners were perfect ; to look at 
her was to love her ; the sound of her voice alone 
would have inspired this feeling. A mother, still 
young, had cultivated in retirement this lovely 
flower. When she again came forward in the 
world to introduce her daughter, every one acknow- 
ledged that they lent each other mutual charms ; 
those of the daughter, declared how beautiful the 
mother had been ; those of the mother, promised a 
similar durability of such loveliness. 

A crowd of admirers surrounded this girl, who 
fascinated alike by her grace, her riches, and her 
modesty. Count Walstein was the favoured lover. 



114 



LETTERS 



Walstein loved for the first time in his life ; a su- 
perb figure, a lively and intellectual mind, and an 
immense fortune, had attracted many a tender look 
without its affecting him. But, by the side of 
Amelia, they appeared made for each other ; jealous 
envy itself was compelled to admire in these two, 
beauty, wit, and youth, surrounded by the illusions 
of a first affection. But alas ! on this earth there 
is no light without its shade. 

Amelia had one little fault ; her heart was given 
to her lover, but whilst she loved only him, she 
wished to please all. Walstein had a weakness, 
he was jealous ; delicacy concealed this feeling, 
but Amelia discovered it, and instead of being care- 
fully guarded, she liked to excite it, and laugh at 
it. The companion of Amelia was a young girl, 
united to her by friendship and relationship. Char- 
lotte was not pretty, if we can ever say this of a 
good heart. She was poor ; an accident had de- 
prived her of her beauty; misfortunes had deprived 
her of her wealth ; but she was benevolent, and 
when doing good, or thinking of it, or speaking 
of it, she became lovely; her mind was exalted, 
and her eyes shone with a gentle brilliancy. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 115 

When she saw that her cousin was going to be 
happy, satisfaction spread over her features, and she 
appeared charming, even by the side of Amelia, 
in the eyes of Walstein. Often had he seen her 
secretly entering the cottages ; she came out loaded 
with blessings ; the young girls shewed each other 
the clothing she had given them; the old men, 
whom she had comforted, blessed her ; the mothers 
loved to see her caress their children. 

She is an angel, said they ; if she were rich, we 
should all be happy. 

Often had these praises reached the heart of 
Walstein. One evening in the country, a walk 
was proposed. Charlotte was not ready, and Amelia 
shewed impatience. A gallant colonel, more cele- 
brated in the drawing-room than the field, arrived, 
and Amelia's ill temper disappeared. The walk 
was given up. Charlotte came at last ; no one re- 
proached her, because no one appeared to perceive 
her. Walstein alone observing a mild emotion on 
her countenance, said to himself, she has been 
doing a good action. 

Amongst other amusements, it was proposed that 
each lady should choose a flower, to which Walstein 



116 



LETTERS. 



should attach a signification. Amelia took a rose, 
and placed it in her bosom; Charlotte chose a sprig 
of mignionette. Whilst Walstein was composing 
some verses on the different selections, the games 
still went on, and he was on a sudden sentenced to 
salute each lady. He at first willingly acquitted 
himself of this not unpleasing punishment; but 
when it came to Amelia's turn, he was confused, 
hesitated, turned pale, and without even pretending 
to salute her, respectfully retired. The colonel 
smiled, and being himself shortly after subjected 
to the same penance, he approached Amelia, cast- 
ing a significant glance at Walstein, and said, " I 
also will be discreet, a kiss would indeed fade the 
bloom of those cheeks, but as every good soldier 
must obey his orders, I shall give the kiss to the 
flower which was selected.'* Amelia laughingly 
defended her bouquet ; but the lips of the presump- 
tuous colonel sullied the flower, and at the same 
time insulted the modesty of Amelia. Walstein 
saw it and trembled, and looking accidentally at 
Charlotte, perceived by her countenance that she 
shared his astonishment and his pain. They now 
wanted to see what Walstein had written on the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 117 

flowers. He tore up his first essay, and traced 
these words under the rose, " It lives but for a day, 
it pleases but for a moment." And under the mig- 
nionette, he wrote "Its qualities surpass its charms." 
Amelia, after having read, cast a disdainful look on 
Walstein, and on her cousin, and continued to co- 
quet with the colonel, and as Walstein no longer 
appeared to observe her, she committed a thousand 
follies to attract his notice. The colonel took such 
advantage of this, that before the end of the even- 
ing he drew from her a half confession of affection : 
this confession, it is true, was uttered loud enough 
for Walstein to hear ; but far from taking umbrage 
at it, he complimented the colonel on his rapid tri- 
umph, and then begged Charlotte to take pity on 
him. 

Charlotte in despair, tried by supplicating looks 
to recall her cousin to her senses, but anger and 
pride, united to throw her into the arms of a cox- 
comb, who made the misery of her life. Poor 
Charlotte thus became, in spite of herself, the wife 
of the virtuous Walstein. She wept for her cou- 
sin, but the Count enjoyed so much happiness with 
her, that he consecrated for ever, the moment of 



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LETTERS 



his escape, by joining to his arms a branch of mig- 
nionette. 



datura : 
false charms. 
Often yielding to effeminacy, an indolent beauty 
languishes for the whole day, and conceals herself 
from the light of the sun. But in the evening, 
brilliant with coquetry, she shews herself to her 
admirers. 

The uncertain light aiding her artifice, gives her 
a false splendour ; she fascinates, she enchants. 
But her heart can love no more; she demands 
slaves, victims. Fly, young man, from the advances 
of this enchantress ; to love and to please, nature 
suffices, art is useless; whoever employs it, is per- 
fidious and dangerous. 

The flowers of the Datura, like these nocturnal 
beauties, languish in their deep foliage whilst the 
sun shines, but at the approach of night they re- 
vive, display their charms, and unfold those purple 
and ivory bells, which breathe an intoxicating per- 
fume, but so dangerous, that it overcomes even in 
the open air, those who inhale it. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



1 19 



VIRGINIAN JESSAMINE. 
SEPARATION. 

What enchanting harmony is perceived in the 
connexion between plants and animals. The 
butterfly flutters on the rose; the nightingale 
lends its song to our groves; the bee extracts a 
sweet treasure from flowers. Thus in nature, 
each insect enjoys its peculiar flower, each bird its 
tree, each quadruped its plant. Man alone enjoys 
all, and he alone can tear asunder these links of 
the universe. His grasping hand, whilst bringing 
an animal from the climate which gave it birth, 
only thinking of his own pleasure, often forgets 
the plant, which would have soothed its exile. If 
he brings the plant, he neglects the insect which 
enlivens it, the bird which adorns it, and the 
quadruped which feeds on its leaves and rests 
under its shade. Behold the jessamine of Virginia, 
with its beautiful verdure and purple flowers; it 
is still a stranger in our land ; we still prefer to it 
our own honeysuckle, with its sweets gathered by 
the bee, its foliage browsed on by the goat, and its 
berries picked by the birds. 



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LETTERS 



Undoubtedly, the rich Virginian jessamine would 
possess equal attractions, did we see it animated 
by the humming-bird of Florida, which prefers its 
foliage to that of any other tree. It makes its nest 
in one of those leaves, which it rolls around it ; and 
finds its subsistence in the flowers ; and buries its 
little body so far in them, that it is sometimes 
caught. This little being is the soul, the life, the 
existence of the planet it loves ; separated from its 
aerial inhabitant, this beautiful creeper becomes a 
desolate widow, who has lost all her charms. 



the dandelion: 

ORACLE. 

Bend your steps towards the plain, the hill side, or 
the mountain-top, and at your feet you will perceive 
tufts of green, covered with golden flowers, or light 
and transparent down. 

You recognize the friend of your childhood, the 
oracle of the fields, which may be every where 
consulted. Dandelions, like men, are spread all 
over the earth; they are found in the four quarters 
of the globe ; at the Poles, and at the Equator ; 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



121 



by the rivers, and on the rocks. Their flowers, 
which open and close at certain hours, mark time 
for the solitary shepherd, and foretell calm or 
tempest. But its light down, serves for more 
endearing purposes. Are we away from the objects 
of our affection, we carefully take one of these little 
transparent spheres ; load it with tender thoughts ; 
then turning towards the spot inhabited by the 
loved- ones, we forward with our breath these little 
faithful messengers, bearing our homage to their 
feet. Do we wish to know if these dear beings 
are thinking of us? — we breathe again, and if one 
single tuft remains, it is a proof we are not for- 
gotten ; but this second trial must be made with 
care : we must gently breathe ; for in every age, 
even in that most glowing with affection, we must 
not disperse too rudely, the pleasing illusions of 
life. 



G 



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LETTERS 



XII. 
AUTUMN. 

FORGE T-M E-N O T. 
REMEMBER ME. 

This plant loves the bank of a river, exposed to the 
mid-day sun ; its blue flowers take the colour of 
the sky, and lean over the crystal waters, as if they 
loved to admire themselves. 

It is said to have been among the ancients, the 
subject of an affecting metamorphosis. It is related 
in Germany, in the olden times, two young lovers 
on the eve of their marriage, were walking on the 
banks of the Danube; a flower of an azure blue 
floated on the waves, which each instant appeared 
ready to engulph it; the young girl admired its 
loveliness, and pitied its fate. Her lover immedi- 



FROM BRUSSELS. 123 

ately threw himself into the stream, grasped the 
blossoming stalk, and sunk entombed in the waves. 
With a last effort he cast the flower on the bank, 
and at the moment that he disappeared for ever, 
exclaimed, "love me, forget me not!" 



china-aster: 

VARIETY. 

The first flower introduced of this kind was single, 
both in form and colour; but afterwards, cultiva- 
tion doubled, quadrupled, and infinitely varied the 
pointed leaves which crown its disc. It was wrongly 
supposed, that the Chinese were only acquainted 
with the single flower sent to us ; but they possess 
all the varieties we admire, and with these varieties 
form decorations, to which no words can do justice. 

To accomplish this effect, they cultivate these 
flowers in pots, separating the colours and shades 
with such extreme care, that they present masses 
of blossom, without the slightest confusion. The 
effect is often increased, by arranging this stage of 
flowers on the edge of a piece of water. Emblem 
of variety, the china-aster owes its charms to culti- 



124 



LETTERS 



ration ; it is the skilful hand of the gardener which 
has surrounded its golden discs with all the 
colours of the rainbow. Thus will cultivation 
unceasingly vary the graces of natural intellect. 
Majestic and brilliant, the china-aster is not the 
impertinent rival of the rose, but comes to comfort 
us in its absence. 



HELIOTROPE OF PERU : 
I LOVE YOU. 

The Orientals say that perfumes raise their soul to 
heaven : it is true they excite us, and cause a sort 
of intoxication ; the impression they produce is so 
deep, that if connected with any particular circum- 
stance, they recall it, even after a lapse of years, 
with all the freshness of an existing sensation. 

Countess Eleanora, natural daughter of Christiern 
IV. king of Denmark, who became so celebrated 
by the misfortunes, the crimes, and the exile of 
Count Ulfeld, her husband, offers us a striking 
instance of the power of perfume on the memory. 
This princess, at the age of thirteen, had loved a 
young man, to whom she was betrothed. He died 



BRUSSELS. 125 

in the castle, whilst the marriage preparations were 
going on. Eleanora, in despair, wished to take a 
last farewell of the object of her affection; and 
entered the room, where he had just expired. 
Already the body reposed on a bier, covered with 
rosemary. This spectacle made such an impres- 
sion on Eleanora, that though her after life proved 
that her courage was equal to her misfortunes, she 
never could encounter the smell of rosemary with- 
out falling into the most dreadful convulsions. 

The celebrated Jussieu, botanising in the Cor- 
dilleras, suddenly inhaled the most delightful per- 
fume ; he expected to discover some brilliant 
flower, but could only see some bushes of delicate 
green, bearing flowers of a very pale blue, which, 
turning towards the sun, appeared offering their 
homage. Struck with this disposition, he gave the 
plant the name of Heliotrope, taken from two 
Greek words, signifying "sun," and "I turn." 
The learned botanist, delighted with his acquisition, 
sent home the seeds of this plant. Women wel- 
comed it with enthusiasm ; placed it in their richest 
vases, called it love's flower, and would scarcely 
accept a bouquet of which it did not form a part. 



126 



LETTERS 



sun-flower: 
false riches, 

The sun-flower comes from Peru, where its flowers 
were worshipped, as the resemblance of the star of 
day. The virgins of the sun, in their religious 
festivals, always wore a crown of gold representing 
this flower. The Spaniards, astonished at this 
pomp, were still more so, when they saw whole 
fields of sun-flowers so accurately imitated, that 
the gold of which they were made was the least 
attraction, even in the eyes of these most rapacious 
conquerors. But this pomp is still common in the 
East. The throne of the Great Mogul is canopied 
by a golden palm tree, with diamond fruit; and 
the panelling of the audience chamber is covered 
with a vine of enamelled gold ; the grapes formed 
of amethysts, sapphires, and rubies, to represent 
their different degrees of maturity. Every year, 
the happy possessor of these riches is weighed; 
the weights are golden fruits, which, after the 
ceremony, are thrown amongst the courtiers, who 
contend with each other for them. These courtiers 
are the greatest lords in India ; thus do false 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



127 



riches, so astonishing and charming to a vulgar 
mind, debase equally those who possess them and 
those who envy them. We are told that Pythias, 
a rich Lydian, possessing several mines of gold, 
neglected the culture of his ground, and employed 
all his slaves in working the mines. His wife, full 
of prudence and goodness, prepared for him a sup- 
per, at which all the viands were gold. " I give 
you," said she, " the only thing we have in abun- 
dance ; we cannot reap what we do not sow ; 
judge for yourself whether gold is so great a bless- 
ing." This lesson made an impression on 
Pythias, who then acknowledged that Providence 
had not lavished its real riches on the avarice of 
mankind; but like a tender mother, reserved to 
herself the task of bestowing them yearly on her 
children, to recompense their labour. 



WALL-FLOWER : 
FAITHFUL IN MISFORTUNE. 

It loves to grow in the crevices of old walls ; we 
find it on ruined towers, cottages, and tombs. In 
the olden times, minstrels and troubadours, wore 



1 28 LETTERS 

a branch of wall-flower, as an emblem of that 
affection, which outlasts time, and survives misfor- 
tune. In the reign of terror, in France, a mad 
populace rushed into the Abbey of St. Dennis, to 
cast the ashes of their kings on the wind; these 
savages, after having demolished the sacred mar- 
bles, as if horror struck at their sacrilege, concealed 
the fragments behind the choir of the church, i 
an obscure court. After the revolution, a poet, 
visiting the sad spot, found it covered with an 
unexpected decoration ; wall-flowers clothed these 
desolate walls : this plant, faithful in misfortune, 
shed so sweet a perfume in this sacred enclosure, 
that it appeared like the holy incense rising to 
heaven. 



ivy: 
friendship. 

Faithful Love confines the transient roses which 
deck his brow with a branch of ivy. Friendship 
has chosen for a device, a fallen tree, covered with 
ivy, and this motto, " Nothing can separate us." 
In Greece, the hymeneal altar was surrounded 



FROM BRUSSELS. 129 

with ivy ; a stalk of which was presented to the 
newly married, as a symbol of an indissoluble tie. 
The Bacchantes, old Silenus, and Bacchus him- 
self, were crowned with ivy. Its ever-green leaves 
were to this joyous court, the emblem of unceasing 
pleasure. Ingratitude has been represented under 
the form of an ivy, which stifles its supporter ; but 
the author of "Etudes de la Nature," has repelled 
this calumny ; the ivy appeared to him, the model 
of friends. " Nothing," says he, " can separate it 
from the tree which it once embraces ; it adorns it 
with its foliage, in that cruel season, when the 
blackened branches are covered with frost; sharer 
of its destiny, it falls with the tree; death itself 
cannot separate it ; and its faithful verdure still 
clings to the withered trunk of the friend it 
adopted." These ideas, as affecting as they are 
graceful, have also the merit of being true ; the 
ivy derives from the earth its own nourishment; 
and does not subsist on the body which it surrounds. 
A protector of ruins, it is the ornament of the old 
walls which it supports; it does not accept every 
proffered aid, but like a faithful friend, dies where 
it attaches itself. 



130 



LETTERS 



COLCHICUM i 
MY BEST DAYS ARE PAST. 

The ancients believed that this plant, brought 
from the fields of Colchis, owed its birth to some 
drops of the magic liquor which Medea prepared, to 
renew youth in the old Jason. This fabulous 
origin, for a long time, caused colchicum to be 
considered as a preservative against every disease. 
The Swiss encircled the necks of their children 
with this flower, and fondly believed them shielded 
from every danger. The false opinion of the won- 
derful virtues of this plant, has misled even wiser 
heads, and it required all the experience of the 
celebrated Haller, to disperse the superstitions of 
ignorance. The blossom has neither leaves nor 
stalk. A long tube, white as ivory, which is only 
a prolongation of the flower, forms its sole support ; 
and at the bottom of this tube, nature has placed 
the seed, which does not ripen until the following 
spring. The covering which defends it, deeply 
buried in the turf, braves the rigours of winter ; 
but the first fine day, it bursts from the ground, 
and poises itself in the sunshine, surrounded by a 



FROM BRUSSELS. 131 

tuft of large green leaves. Thus, tins plant, 
reversing the natural order of the seasons, mixes 
its fruit with the flowers of spring, and its flowers 
with the fruits of autumn. But in all ages, the 
tender lambs fly from it ; the young shepherdess 
looks at it with sorrow; and if, sometimes, melan- 
choly twine a wreath of its flowers, it consecrates 
that wreath to those happy days which are fled 
never to return. 



LAUREL ALMOND: 
PERFIDY. 

The environs of Trebisond, on the borders of the 
Black Sea, is the birth-place of the treacherous 
laurel : which conceals the most fatal poison in its 
shining foliage. This tree, which adorns our groves 
in winter, is loaded in spring with numerous white 
flowers, succeeded by fruit resembling small cherries; 
its flowers, its fruit, and its leaves have the taste 
and smell of the almond. The poison concentrated 
in the distilled water, or in the essential oil of this 
laurel is so violent, that it is sufficient, to bring it 
in contact with the slightest wound, to cause death 



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LETTERS 



to the strongest man. In Italy, wise regulations 
have prohibited the sale of this dreadful poison; 
but the avaricious distillers, secretly distribute it, 
under the name of essence of bitter almonds. It 
is also said that the scent of this terrible laurel 
will produce nightmare. 



SWEET-SMELLING TUSSILAGE : 
JUSTICE SHALL BE DONE YOU. 

Genius, under the veil of modesty, does not strike 
the eyes of the vulgar. But if an enlightened 
judge recognizes it, its power is revealed, and it 
bears away in triumph, the admiration of those 
whose stupid indifference could not comprehend it. 

A young Dutch miller, having a taste for paint- 
ing, employed himself in his leisure moments with 
depicting the landscape around him. The mill, the 
flocks of his master, the grass, the tints of the sky, 
clouds, vapour, light, and shadow, were portrayed 
by his pencil with exquisite truth. As soon as a 
picture was done, he took it to a colour merchant, 
who gave him for its value, wherewith to paint 
another. One day, the innkeeper of the place 



FROM BRUSSELS. 133 

borrowed two of these pictures, to ornament the 
room where he received his guests. A celebrated 
painter stopped at this inn ; admired the truth of 
these landscapes; offered a hundred florins for 
what had only cost a crown ; and promised to take 
at this price, all the works of the same artist. 
Behold the reputation of the young painter esta- 
blished, his fortune made ! Prudent as well as 
lucky, he never forgot his mill, we find it in all his 
pictures. 

Who would believe that plants have the same 
fate as men, and that they also required a patron 
to bring them forward. Tussilage remained for 
a long time unknown, at the foot of Mount Pilot, 
where it would still have flourished without glory, 
if a learned botanist had not appreciated its quali- 
ties. This perfumed plant, appears at a season 
w T hen all other flowers are gone. Like the great 
artist, who made the fortune of the poor painter. 
Monsieur Villair made that of the humble flower ; 
he gave it a distinguished rank in his work ; and 
from that time, carefully cultivated, it perfumes 
our drawing-rooms in December. 



134 



LETTERS 



SCARLET GERANIUM : 
FOLLY. 



The Baroness de Stael was always angry if an 
untalented man was introduced to her. A friend 
one day, hazarded presenting to her a young Swiss 
officer of captivating appearance. The lady, de- 
ceived by his good looks, exerted herself, and said 
a thousand flattering things to the new-comer, 
whom she thought at first struck dumb with sur- 
prise and admiration ; however, as he listened for 
an hour without opening his mouth, she began to 
mistrust his silence, and asked him such pointed 
questions, that he was obliged to answer. Alas ! 
the poor man could only utter nonsense. Madame 
de Stael, piqued at having thrown away her trouble 
and her wit, turned towards her friend, and said, 
" In good truth, sir, you resemble my gardener, 
who thought he should gratify me, by bringing 
a geranium; but I must tell you that I sent back 
his flower, requesting that I might never see it 
again." " Why, then ? ,? asked the young man, quite 
aghast. " Sir, you must know, the geranium is a 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



135 



flower well dressed in scarlet, it pleases our eyes ; 
but when we gently press it, we can only extract 
an insipid scent." Saying these words, she arose, 
leaving the cheeks of the young fool as red as his 
coat, or as the flower, to which he had just been 
compared. 



CYPRUS : 
MOURNING. 

Wherever we see these trees, their funereal aspect 
fills us with melancholy. Their long pyramids, 
pointing towards heaven, mournfully wave with 
the breeze. The sun does not penetrate their 
thick shade, and when its setting rays cast their 
shadow on the ground, it resembles a dark phantom. 
In the midst of our flowering groves the cypress 
arises, like those representations of death, which 
the Romans shewed to their guests in the midst of 
their festivities. 

The ancients consecrated the cypress to the 
Fates, the Furies, and Pluto. They placed it near 
their graves. 

The Easterns preserve the same custom. With 



136 LETTERS 

us the fields of the dead are not bare and desolate ; 
we approach them, to be as it were reunited to 
those friends, who have for a short time preceded 
ourselves. In the environs of Constantinople, we 
may often see a family of Armenians, in the pre- 
cincts of a funeral monument : the old reflect there ; 
childhood gives itself up to joy; and young lovers 
sometimes approach it, to swear fidelity in the pre- 
sence of those friends who remain, and of those 
who are gone. Behold, farther off, the lonely 
orphan seated near the cypress which covers its 
parents ; within sight of their tomb, it feels as if 
still sheltered by their care. The widow, prostrate 
on the stone which covers her husband, prays, and 
finds in this image of death, the hope which con- 
soles her; but the sad mother who has lost her 
children, weeps, and will not be comforted. 



the oak: 
hospitality. 



The ancients believed that the oak, coeval with 
the world itself, offered to the first of mankind 



FROM BRUSSELS. 137 

food and shelter. This tree, consecrated to Jupi- 
ter, shaded the cradle of the God, when he was 
born in Arcadia, in Mount Lycseus. 

The crown of oak leaves, less esteemed by the 
Greeks than the crown of gold, was in the eyes of 
the Romans the most enviable of all rewards. To 
obtain it, it was necessary to be a citizen, to have 
killed an enemy, to have regained a battle, and 
to have saved the life of a Roman. Scipio Afri- 
canus refused the civic crown, after having saved 
his father at the battle of Trebia ; he refused this 
crown, because his action brought its own reward. 
In Epirus, the oaks of Dodona gave oracles; those 
of the Gauls concealed the mysteries of the Druids. 
The Celts adored this tree ; it was with them the 
emblem of hospitality; a virtue so dear to them, 
that next to the title of hero, that of friend and 
stranger was most sacred in their eyes. Hama- 
dryads, fairies and geniuses no longer people our 
forests, but a majestic oak still fills us with admira- 
tion, respect, and awe. Full of youth and strength, 
when it raises its lofty head, and extends its im- 
mense branches, it bears the semblance of a pro- 
tector, a king. Deprived of foliage, immoveable. 



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LETTERS 



struck by lightning, it resembles the old man, who 
has lived in past ages, and no longer takes a part 
in the agitations of life. 

The stormy winds assail this tree; at first it 
murmurs, but soon a heavy, deep and melancholy 
sound proceeds from its branches. We listen, and 
think we hear a confused and mysterious voice, 
thus explaining the superstitions of olden times. 



amaranth: 
immortality. 

The amaranth is the last gift of autumn. Its 
flower has been associated with supreme honours, 
by encircling the heads of heathen deities. 

Poets have, sometimes, wreathed it with the 
cypress, thus to express that their regret was im- 
mortal. Homer says, " that at the funeral of 
Achilles, the Thessalians wore crowns of ama- 
ranth." Love and friendship have also worn this 
flower, which consoles us for the approaching ri- 
gours of winter. Christina of Sweden, who wished 
to immortalize her name by renouncing the throne 
for the sake of literature and philosophy, instituted 



FROM BRUSSELS. 139 

the order of the Amaranth. The decoration of 
this order, was a golden medal, on which was 
enamelled, an amaranth flower, and these words, 
" Dear to our memory." 



parsley: 
festivity. 

Parsley was in great repute with the Greeks ; in 
their banquets they wore crowns of its frail branches, 
believing them capable of promoting gaiety and 
appetite. At Rome, in the Isthmian games, the 
conquerors were crowned with parsley. This plant 
was considered a native of Sardinia, because this 
province is represented on old coins, under the 
form of a woman, near which is placed a vase con- 
taining a branch of parsley; but this plant grows 
naturally in many parts of Greece, and even in 
our southern countries. A branch of laurel, and 
a crown of parsley, are the attributes particularly 
appropriate to our festivals. These plants have, 
it is true, served a nobler purpose ; but in the age 
of gastronomy, we must no longer remember what 
was done in the age of heroism. 



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LETTERS 



MOUNTAIN ASH: 
DURATION. 

This tree does not attain a greater height than 
eighteen or twenty feet ; it lives for centuries, but 
its growth is very slow ; it blossoms in the spring, 
but reserves for winter its brilliant scarlet berries. 
The Greeks dedicated this tree to Apollo, because 
this divinity presided over those intellectual works 
which require much time and reflection. A charm- 
ing emblem, which teaches all those who would 
cultivate literature, eloquence, and poetry, that 
to win the laurel crown, they must wear for a long 
while, that of patience and reflection. After 
Romulus had traced the circumference of his rising 
city, he cast his javelin on Mount Palatine. The 
staff of this javelin was of ash ; it took root, grew, 
produced branches, leaves, became a tree ; this pro- 
digy was regarded as a happy presage of the power 
and duration of the growing empire. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



141 



A WHOLE STRAW: 
UNION. 

A BROKEN STRAW : 
RUPTURE. 

The custom of breaking a straw, to express that 
every engagement is at an end, may be traced to 
the earliest times of the monarchy ; we may even 
say, it has almost a royal origin. According to 
tradition, in 922, Charles the Simple, seeing him- 
self abandoned by the principal lords of his court, 
had the imprudence to convoke an assembly at 
Soissons. He sought friends ; he found rebels, 
whose audacity was increased by his weakness. 
Some reproached him with his indolence, his pro- 
digality, and his blind confidence in his minister, 
Haganon ; others loudly exclaimed against his dis- 
honourable concessions to Raoul, the Norman 
chieftain. Surrounded by this factious crowd, he 
entreated, he promised, he thought he should 
escape by fresh acts of weakness ; but in vain. 
When they saw his courage faulter, their presump- 
tion knew no bounds ; they dared to declare he 
was no longer king. 



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LETTERS 



At these words, which they uttered with every 
mark of violence, and accompanied with threats, 
they advanced to the foot of the throne, broke in 
two some straws which they heklin their hands, 
threw them rudely on the ground, and withdrew, 
after having expressed, by this action, that their 
allegiance was broken. This instance is the oldest 
which we can find ; but it proves that this method 
of breaking an engagement must have been pre- 
viously in use, since these vassals did not think it 
necessary to add a single word of explanation to 
their action. They were sure of being understood, 
and they were so. What formerly served to de- 
throne a king, to overthrow a nation, is now used 
to afflict a heart. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



143 



XIIL 
WINTER. 

WITHERED LEAVES: 
SORROW. MELANCHOLY. 

Winter approaches ; the trees have lost their 
verdure, after being deprived of their fruits; the 
retiring sun tints the foliage with deep or melan- 
choly shades ; the poplar resembles discoloured 
gold ; the acacia folds up its light seed vessels, no 
more to be aroused by the sun ; the long tresses of 
the birch float in the air, already deprived of orna- 
ment ; and the pine, destined to preserve its green 
pyramid, proudly balances it in the breeze. The 
oak is immoveable ; it resists the efforts of the 
wind to despoil its lofty head ; but the king of the 
forest will yield to spring, its leaves reddened by 



144 LETTERS 

winter. We might imagine all the trees affected 
by different passions ; one, lowly bending, as if 
rendering homage to that tree, which the tempest 
cannot shake; the other, appearing as if it would 
embrace its companion, the supporter of its weak- 
ness ; and whilst these mingle their branches 
together, a third, trembles in every leaf, as if sur- 
rounded by enemies; respect, friendship, hatred, 
and anger, pass by turns from one to the other. 
Thus assailed by every wind, and, as it were, agi- 
tated by every passion, we hear their lengthened 
waitings ; like the confused murmurs of an alarmed 
populace, there is no prevailing voice, but a heavy, 
deep, and monotonous sound, which fills the soul 
with vague terror. 

We often see clouds of dead leaves falling on 
the ground, and covering it with a moving vesture. 

We like to look at the storm, which drives, dis- 
perses, agitates, and torments these sad wrecks of a 
spring, which will return no more. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



145 



crab apple: 
prudence. 

Each tree, each plant, has an appropriate physi- 
ognomy, which seems to indicate its character. 
The volatile almond tree hastens to give its flowers 
in spring, at the risk of having no fruit for the 
autumn. Whilst the crab apple, slowly growing, 
only bears fruit when it has acquired all its 
strength; but the harvest then is certain. This is 
wherefore it has been made the emblem of prudence. 
This tree, so beautiful, so lasting, preserves its 
scarlet fruit all the winter ; it shines in the midst 
of the snow ; it is a winter harvest, which Provi- 
dence has reserved for the little birds, 



misletoe : 
i overcome all. 

The misletoe is a little plant which grows on the 
summit of the tallest trees: the haughty oak be- 
comes its slave, and feeds it with its own substance. 
The Druids held in adoration this weakness, so 
superior to strength; the subjugation of the oak 

H 



146 



LETTERS 



appeared to them formidable alike to gods and men. 
They related this story in support of their opinion : 
" One day. Balder told his mother Friga, that he 
had dreamt he should die. Friga conjured the 
fire, the metals, the disorders, the water, the 
animals, the serpents, not to hurt her son ; and the 
conjurations of Friga were so potent, that nothing 
could resist them. Balder, therefore, w T ent to the 
combats of the gods without fear, Loake, his 
enemy, wished to discover the reason ; he took the 
disguise of an old woman, and sought Friga. He 
said to her, " in our combats, arrows and rocks fall 
on your son, Balder, without hurting him." "I 
believe it," said Friga, " all these substances have 
sworn it to me ; there is nothing in existence 
which can hurt him; I obtained this favour from 
every thing which possesses power; there is but 
one little plant, which I did not ask, because it 
appeared to me too feeble ; it was hanging on the 
bark of the oak, with scarcely any root; it lived 
without earth; its name was misletoe." Thus 
spoke Friga. Loake immediately sought this 
plant, and entering the assembly of the gods 
whilst they were fighting against the invulnerable 



FROM BRUSSELS. 147 

Balder (for their games are combats), he ap- 
proached the blind Heda. " Why," said he, " do 
you not also shoot your arrows at Balder?" "I 
am blind," replied Heda, "and have no arms." 
Loake presented him the misletoe, and said, 
" Balder is before you; 9 ' the blind Heda shot the 
arrow ; Balder fell lifeless. Thus, the invulnerable 
son of a goddess was killed by an arrow of misletoe 
in the hand of a blind man. Such is the origin of 
the respect which the Gauls had for this shrub. 



A TUFT OF MOSS : 
MATERNAL AFFECTION. 

Like friends who cannot be repulsed by misfor- 
tude, or even by ingratitude, the mosses, banished 
from our cultivated fields, approach the barren and 
uncultivated spots, to clothe them with their own 
substance, changing them by degrees into fertile 
earth, and transforming marshes into useful and 
smiling meadows. In winter, when nothing vege- 
tates, they take charge of the atmosphere, and 
purify it; in summer they form in the shade of the 
forest, seats for the shepherd, the lover, and the 



148 



LETTERS 



poet; the birds carpet their nests with them, to 
prepare for their young families, and the squirrel 
constructs with them its circular abode. 

Still more, without these plants, so despised by 
mankind, one part of our globe would be uninhabit- 
able. 

On the confines of the earth, the Laplanders 
cover with moss, those caverns in which they brave 
the longest winters ; their numerous herds of rein- 
deer have no other food, and yet they provide their 
owners with delicious milk, succulent flesh, and 
warm clothing, thus uniting for the poor Laplander, 
all the advantages which we derive from the cow, 
the horse, and the sheep. 

The Laplanders, collected around their fires, 
celebrate with the sound of their magical drums, 
the Aurora Borealis, which illumines their long 
nights, the virtues of their ancestors, or their own 
exploits; whilst the women, seated near them, 
warm in cradles of moss, their infants swathed in 
ermine. Happy people ! you know not our wars, 
our festivals, our quarrels, and our lengthened 
miseries ; each day in your blessed ignorance, you 
thank the gods for having given you birth in the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



149 



finest of all countries, for having bestowed on you 
simple manners, a pure atmosphere, and perfumed 
mosses. 

In these climates, provident nature envelopes 
with moss all that exists, as with a vegetable cover- 
ing, which will preserve her children from the frost, 
and warm them in her maternal bosom. 



LAUREL THYME : 
I DIE, IE I AM NEGLECTED. 

This pretty shrub, which comes from Spain, is the 
ornament of our groves in winter, being covered 
with verdure and flowers, at a time when all other 
plants have none. Neither the burning breath of 
summer, nor the cold wind of winter can destroy 
its charms, but it requires care. The symbol of a 
faithful and delicate friendship, it always seeks to 
pleaise, but dies if neglected. 



150 



LETTERS 



THE DAPHNE LAUREL: 
GLORY. 

The Greeks and Romans dedicated laurel crowns 
to every kind of glory; they placed them on the 
brow of warriors, poets, orators, philosophers, ves- 
tals, and emperors. This beautiful shrub grows abun- 
dantly in the island of Delphos, on the banks of the 
river Peneus. There, its aromatic and evergreen 
branches rise to the height of the tallest trees, and 
it is said, that by a secret power they defend the 
shores which they adorn from the thunderbolt. 

The beautiful Daphne, daughter of the river Pe- 
neus, was beloved by Apollo, but preferring virtue 
to the love of the most eloquent of the deities, and 
afraid of being misled by listening to him, she fled. 
Apollo pursued her, and as he gained fast on her 
footsteps, the nymph invoked her father* and was 
changed into a laurel. 



A BRANCH OF HOLLY : 
FORESIGHT. 

The foresight of nature is admirably displayed in 
this tree. The large holly trees which grow abun- 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



151 



dantly in the forest of Needwood, have a girdle 
of leaves armed with thorns, to the height of about 
eight or ten feet ; here the leaves cease to be a de- 
fence, they become soft, the plant no longer requires 
to be armed against those enemies who might 
attack it. 

This tree, of a most beautiful green, is the latest 
clothing of our forests; its berries feed those birds 
which do not quit our climes; it covers them with 
its foliage like a hospitable roof, prepared to shelter 
them in severe weather. The stags and deer seek 
protection from it, and conceal themselves behind 
the snow which collects in heaps around it. Does 
it not appear as if nature with tender foresight, had 
made this tree evergreen, and armed it with thorns, 
that it might supply the wants, and be a defence of 
the innocent creatures that come to it for refuge ? 
it is a friend, which its fostering hand keeps for 
them, at a time when every thing else abandons 
them. 



152 



LETTERS 



COQUETRY. 
M EZE R IUM : 

The stalk of the Mezerium is covered with a dry- 
bark, which gives it the appearance of dead wood. 

Nature, to conceal its deformity, has clothed its 
branches with small purple flowers of a spiral form, 
terminated by a little tuft of leaves resembling a 
pine apple. An indefinable and exquisite, but 
dangerous perfume proceeds from the slight stalks, 
which often blossom towards the end of January. 
This plant, blooming in the midst of the snow, re- 
minds us of an imprudent and coquettish nymph, 
who, shivering with the cold, wears her spring 
clothing in the midst of winter. 



snowdrop : 
consolation. 
The north wind blows, the frost loads the trees, a 
uniform white carpet covers the ground ; the birds 
are silent, the imprisoned water no longer mur- 
murs, the pale rays of the sun scarcely warm our 
fields, the heart of man is sad, he thinks all nature 
is dead. A delicate flower suddenly appears in the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



153 



midst of the snowy covering, it unfolds to our 
astonished eyes its ivory bells, with a little spot of 
green in their centre, as if touched by hope. 
Resting on the snow, this amiable flower seems to 
smile on the region of winter, and say, "I come to 
quiet your fears, I come to console you for the 
absence of lovely days," 



aloes : 

BITTERNESS OF GRIEF. 

The aloe only clings to the ground by feeble roots, 
it grows in the desert, its taste is very bitter. 
Thus does grief separate us from the w r orld, detach 
us from this earth, and fill our hearts with bitterness. 



AGNUS CASTUS: 
TO LIVE WITHOUT LOVE. 

Pliny and Galen inform us, that the priestesses of 
Ceres prepared their couch of the odoriferous 
branches of this shrub, which is covered with long 
spikes of white, purple, or violet flowers, and which 
they regarded as the palladium of their chastity. 



154 LETTERS 

The nuns drink a water distilled from its leaves, to 
drive all earthly thoughts from their solitary cells. 
Many orders of monks carry a knife, the handle of 
which is made of Agnus Castus, as a sure means of 
rendering their hearts insensible. Thus this shrub 
has been ever considered the emblem of apathy. 



juniper : 
asylum. succour. 

This shrub was consecrated to the Furies; its 

smoke was the incense offered to the infernal deities; 

its berries were burnt at funerals to keep off demons. 

The peasant still believes that the perfume of 

juniper berries purifies the air, and preserves his 

humble roof from evil influences. In its native 

state it grows on the borders of the forest; weak 

and timid creatures seek an asylum under its long 

branches; the hare ran down, confidently relies on 

it for shelter; its strong scent puts the hounds at 

fault; the thrush builds its nest there, and feeds on 

its fruit; whilst the entymologist comes to study 

on its thorny boughs, a thousand brilliant insects 

which have no other defence, and appear to be 

aware that this tree will protect their weakness. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



155 



the yew: 

SORROW. 

In all vegetables, there is something which attracts 
or repels us. The yew is a just emblem of sorrow: 
a trunk deprived of bark, a sombre foliage strangely 
contrasted with its red berries, like drops of blood, 
warns the traveller to shun its dangerous shade. 
This tree kills the plants and exhausts the earth 
around it. Our ancestors placed it in their ceme- 
teries, they gave its shade to death and its wood to 
war ; this wood was used for bows, for lances, and 
javelins; the Greeks employed it for the same 
purposes; the Swiss peasants hold it in great vene- 
ration, they call it " William's tree," and it is for- 
bidden to strip off its branches. In Holland, where 
the gardens owe every thing to art, where all is 
symmetry, where the very sand of the walks is 
regularly arranged, you may often see at the four 
corners of a perfect square, vases, pyramids, or 
immense balls of yew, which remind us of the 
masterpieces of our ancient gardeners. 

The Greeks, who had a truer taste for the beau- 
ties of nature, imagined from the sad aspect of the 



156 LETTERS 

tree, that the unhappy Smilax, who saw her love 
despised by the young Crocus, was inclosed in its 
bark. 

In those climates, all the plants spoke to mankind 
of heroes, of the gods, or of love ; let us also listen 
to their voice; they will speak to us of that Provi- 
dence, who after having lavished them on us for 
our wants, reserved some for our pleasures and 
our sorrows. This attentive mother provides by 
means of vegetables, toys for our childhood, chaplets 
for our youth, and for every age delicious fruits, 
soft beds, and cool shade. Are we melancholy ? 
the willow calls us by its gentle murmurs; — are we 
in love ? the myrtle offers us its flowers; — are ;we 
rich? the chestnut gives its shade; — are we sorrow- 
ful ? the yew presents itself, and seems to say, 
" Fly from grief, it exhausts the heart, like I ex- 
haust the earth which supports me: sorrow is as 
fatal to man, as my shade to the traveller," 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



157 



THE DAISY: 
INNOCENCE. 

Malvina, bending over the tomb of Fingal, wept 
for the valiant Oscar, and for Oscar's son, who died 
the day of his birth. The daughters of Morven, to 
lessen her grief, wandered around her, celebrating 
by their songs, the death of the hero and that of 
the new-born infant: "the brave is fallen," they 
sung, " he is fallen, and the sound of his arms has 
resounded on the plain ; sickness which quells 
courage, old age which dishonours a hero, cannot 
reach him; he is fallen, and the sound of his arms 
has resounded on the plain. Received in the misty 
halls of his fathers, he drinks with them the cup of 
immortality. Oh daughter of Toscar, dry the tears 
of grief ; the brave is fallen, he is fallen, and the 
sound of his arms has resounded on the plain!" 

Then with a softer voice, they sung again. " The 
child which has not seen the light, has not known 
the bitterness of life; its young spirit, borne on 
brilliant wings, seeks with Aurora the palaces of Day. 
The souls of other infants, which like it, have 
broken without pain the links of life, floating on 



158 



LETTERS 



golden clouds, open the mysterious gates of the 
manufactory of flowers. There, this innocent troop, 
ignorant of evil, are occupied in enclosing in im- 
perceptible seeds, the flowers which are to blossom 
in Spring. Every morning this young company 
scatter these seeds on the earth, mingled with the 
tears of Aurora; thousands of delicate hands fold 
up the rose in its bud ; the grain of wheat in its 
covering ; and the vast branches of the oak in an 
acorn. We saw him; Oh Malvina! we saw the 
child which you mourn, cradled on the mist; he 
approached us, and scattered a harvest of new 
flowers over our fields. Look, Malvina ! amongst 
these flowers there is one with a golden disc sur- 
rounded by silver rays ; a slight shade of purple 
tints these rays ; dry your tears, Malvina, the hero 
is fallen, covered with his arms; and the flower of 
your bosom has given a new flower to the plains of 
Cromla." The sweetness of these songs hushed 
the sorrows of Malvina ; she took her golden harp 
and repeated the hymn. From this day, the daugh- 
ters of Morven consecrated the daisy to Infancy ; 
it is the flower of innocence; the flower of the 
newly born. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



159 



THE HAZEL TREE: 
PEACE. RECONCILIATION. 

There was a time when no tie connected mankind: 
deaf to the cries of nature, the lover abandoned his 
mistress ; the mother snatched from her dying child 
the wild berries which appeased his hunger. Mis- 
fortune might unite them for a moment ; but the 
sight of an oak covered with acorns, or a beech 
with nuts, again set them at variance. The earth 
was full of mourning. There was neither law, 
religion, nor language. Man forgot his nature; 
his reason slumbered ; and he was often more savage 
than the wild beasts, whose howlings he imitated. 
The gods took pity on mankind. Apollo and 
Mercury visited the earth. The god of Music 
received from the son of Maia a tortoiseshell lyre, 
and gave him in return a hazel rod, which had the 
power of creating a love for virtue, and of recon- 
ciling those hearts divided by hatred and envy. 
Thus armed, the two sons of Jupiter presented 
themselves to mankind. Apollo sung the eternal 
Wisdom which created the universe ; the birth of 
the elements ; the links of nature ; and the necessity 



160 LETTERS 

of appeasing the Deity by prayer : at his voice you 
might have seen the mothers, pale and trembling, 
approach with their children in their arms ; hunger 
was suspended; revenge fled. Then Mercury 
touched mankind with the wand he had received 
from Apollo. He loosed their tongues, and taught 
them the use of speech ; he taught them that union 
makes strength ; and that nothing can be derived 
from the earth without mutual assistance. Filial 
piety, and the love of country awoke at his voice to 
unite mankind; and commerce became the link of 
lithe world; his last thought was the most sublime, 
for it was consecrated to the gods ; he taught men 
to resemble them by love and benevolence. The 
hazel wand, with two wings, and entwined by ser- 
pents, is still, under the name of Caduceus, the 
symbol of peace, commerce, and reconciliation. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



161 



A TABLE OF THE FLORAL EMBLEMS OF EACH 
HOUR OF THE DAY AMONG THE ANCIENTS. 



First Fuli blown Roses 

Second Heliotrope 

Third White Roses 

Fourth ^Hyacinths 

Fifth Lemons 

Sixth Lotus 

Seventh Lupins 

Eighth Oranges 

Ninth ~01ive Leaves 

Tenth Poplar Leaves 

Eleventh ™ ™™Marigolds 

Twelfth™ , — ~ — ^Heart's Ease and Violets. 



162 



LETTERS 



MEANINGS ATTACHED TO A FEW FLOWERS 
THAT ARE EASILY MET WITH. 



Wormwood 
Anemone . 
Syringa 
Thistle 
Larch ^ 



Clematis . 



Indian Pink. 
Potato — 



Musk Rose . 
Borage 
Cherry Tree,. 
Madder. 
Wild Poppy . 
Orange Flowers . 
Hepatica , 
A White Rose Bud 



.Absence 
.Excess 

.Fraternal affection 



-.Austerity 

.Audacity 

^Artifice 

.Aversion 

.Benevolence 

.Capricious beauty 

.Roughness 

.Well-bred 

.Calumny 

.Consolation 

.Chastity 

.Confidence 

.A heart ignorant of love 



FROM BRUSSELS, 



163 



White Violet 

Poplar 

Rush — 



Blackthorn 
Yellow Pinks 
Jonquil 
Henbane 
Marigold and Cypress 
A Fir Tree 
Bramble 
Broom 
Sage 

Pomegranate. 

Amaryllis 

Veronica 
Fumitory 
Venus' Looking Glass 
Cedar ^ 
Willow 
Plane Tree 
Beech 

Balm Healing 
Sweet Basil — 
Peony 



.Candour 

^Courage 

JDocility 

.Difficulty 

.Disdain 

.Desire 

.Defect 

.Despair 

.Elevation 

.Envy 

-.Deceitful hope 

.Esteem 

.Coxcombry 

.Pride 

..Fidelity 

.Spite 

.Flattery 

.Strength 

-Frankness 

.Genius 

^Grandeur 

.Healing 

.Hatred 

.Shame 



164 



LETTERS 



Balsam . 

Plumb Tree 
Yellow Rose. 
Ranunculus . 
Vine. 
Hops- 
White Rose 
Mulberry 
Field Rust ™ 
Field Daisy — 
Double Daisy . 
Scabious 
Larkspur 
Nettle 
Coriander- 
Iris , 
Violet , 
Reeds 



.Impatience 

^Independence 

.Infidelity 

^Ingratitude 

.Intoxication 

.Injustice 

.1 am worthy of you 
I will not survive you 
I will be docile 
J will think of it 
I share your feelings 
.1 have lost all 
Giddiness 
Naughtiness 
Hidden merit 
A message 
Modesty 
Music 
Mistrust 
Illness 
.Birth 



Lavender 
Field Anemone 
Dittany 

Olive Tree Peace 

Dog's Tooth Perseverance 

Apple Blossom ....Preference 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



165 



Sweet Pea Delicate pleasure 

Imperial Power 

Evergreen Clematis Poverty 

Cabbage Profit 

Campanula Gratitude 

Lettuce Coldness 

Maple Tree Reserve 

Chestnut Tree Do me justice 

Branch of Thorn Rigour 

Varied Pink Refusal 

Chickweed Surrender 

Mushroom Suspicion 

Balm Be happy- 
Box Stoicism 

Bettony Surprise 

White Rose Silence 

Fern Sincerity 

Cistus Safety 

Sensitive Plant Sensibility 

White Poppy Repose of the heart 

White Pink Talent 

Morella Cherries Truth 

Mint Virtue 

Rosemary.,... Your presence revives me 



166 LETTERS 

Astragal ..Your presence soothes me 

Hemlock You kill me 

Gooseberry You please all 

Pine Apple You are perfect 

Heart's Ease ..You fill my thoughts 

Palm Victory 

House Leek Vivacity. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



167 



XIV. 

There are some squares in Brussels worth observ- 
ing, in the course of a morning's stroll ; it is always 
pleasant to have some object for a walk, even to 
professed pedestrians ; therefore, I will name the 
principal. 

The Place Royal looks the best; it may not be 
the largest, but the buildings which form the sides 

are uniform and in good style of architecture. 

The church of St. James, Candenburg, faces the 
Rue Montagne de la Cour ; its portico of six Corin- 
thian columns, and ascent of stone steps, present a 
good centre. The best hotels are in this square. 
The Hotel Belle Vue, and those of Flanders, 
I/Europe, the Caffe Royal, and CafFe de l'Amitie 
are much frequented. In these coffee houses, well 
lighted rooms attract the eyes of the loungers ; 
punch a la Romaine tempts the thirsty ; and those 
who have nothing better to do, stop for a few 



168 



LETTERS 



minutes to listen to some of the street music, these 
few minutes entail a cup of coffee or some other 
refreshment, and two or three copper coins reward 
the performer. 

These itinerant musicians appear to abound, and 
may be seen at every hour of the afternoon, repair- 
ing to the different hotels. At the table d'hote, 
about the middle of dinner, they commence their 
song ; some accompanied by the harp and violin, 
others with the light guitar. This music, though so 
simple, gives a festive air to the scene, more indeed 
than would be imagined, by those who had never 
witnessed it; it very pleasingly breaks the interval 
between the two courses ; affords something to look 
at; allows silence to become the order of the hour, 
without appearing dull; and when the plate is 
brought round, we willingly contribute our penny, 
in return for these advantages. The poor singers 
themselves look weary enough ; but perhaps it is 
difficult to relinquish this indolent, though tiresome 
life, when once began; habit, having become 
nature, would unfit them for other occupations, 
and those who had so long existed by sauntering 
from house to house, bearing their harps on their 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



169 



shoulders, and mechanically repeating the same 
airs, would be utterly unable to gain their bread 
in another way. 

Another attraction in the Place Royale, are 
the drums and trumpets of the tattoo, at nine in 
the evening in summer, and eight in winter. It 
is worth hearing ; every night as St. James's clock 
strikes, they begin their march, and every night 
a crowd collects, to accompany them through the 
town. The drum-major is by no means the least 
worth looking at ; the enormous round bear-skin 
cap, disputes with his moustachios, the honour of 
hiding his face ; to support this cap, must be bad 
enough, but when to this exertion, is added the 
necessity of brandishing his staff, and making of 
himself a perfect caricature, it is not an enviable 
post ; though he would not, on any account, relin- 
quish his honours : there must be something con- 
solingly dignified in the consciousness, that the 
wrists of the drummers, and the breath of the 
trumpeters, must alike wait his signal, that should 
he, lost in bright visions of his glory, forget to 
raise his staff, these meaner spirits must still do 
their office. 



170 LETTERS 

The Grande Place is full of stalls for vegetables 
and fruit; and generally full of passers to and from 
the higher part of the town. The low town, where 
the commencement of the city took place, was 
formerly a thorough marsh ; the patience of cultiva- 
tion drained it, and restrained the river Senne from 
overflowing, and in course of time houses covered 
the ground ; the streets are narrow and irregular ; 
and probably owing to its situation, the odours of 
decayed vegetables, and fish, added to the drains, 
are insupportable in hot weather ; with no current 
of air to relieve the extreme closeness, the term 
reeking can alone convey the state of this part of 
the city. 

The climate is considered by the inhabitants 
healthy ; but they complain of its being extremely 
variable; some days the heat is overpowering, when 
it suddenly becomes quite cold. Thunder-storms 
are by no means of rare occurrence, though warded 
off in a great degree by the proximity of the 
forest of Soignies. A medical opinion exists, that 
the atmosphere is calculated to produce congestion 
in those who first settle here ; although it is a 
climate to which they soon become naturalized. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



171 



The higher part of the town enjoys whatever 
air prevails, and it is quite a relief to reach the top 
of the hill, after traversing any of the other streets. 

The beautiful Hotel de Ville occupies nearly one 
side of the Grande Place, and opposite to this is 
the Maison du Roi. The image of the Virgin 
Mary was placed on it by the Infanta Isabella, in 
gratitude for the preservation of the city from 
plague, war and famine. The Latin inscription still 
visibly proclaims this benefit. The gothic archi- 
tecture renders it an ^appropriate object to face the 
Town-Hall, and contributes to the effect of the 
Square ; but interiorly there is nothing worth the 
trouble of inspecting, being only used as a place of 
meeting for one of the clubs. 

The other ends of the Square are composed of 
different houses ; the one nearest the herb-market, 
is an auction room, where apparently articles of 
the poorer class are daily exposed for sale: — old 
bedsteads, broken chairs, torn prints, faded flowers, 
worn-out musical instruments, marble slabs; in 
short, all the reliques present themselves to your 
choice, as if willing, though considered useless by 
their former owners, to afford an addition to the 
scantier comforts of a humbler purchaser. 



172 



LETTERS 



Many things which we look at with indifference 
are objects of ambition to our poorer brethren. 
A shattered bedstead will raise from the damp 
ground, those who before had none; an old chair 
will rest the limbs of declining poverty; the torn 
prints may cover the humble walls, or the faded 
flowers be placed as a pious offering round some 
household saint. 

Thus will each acquisition yield as much gratifi- 
cation as our more expensive purchases. The 
centimes will have been hoarded one by one ; and 
you will ask, how could those hoard, who had not 
enough to supply the simplest wants ? by curtailing 
their daily bread, though hunger crave for more; 
by wearing the ragged garment yet a little longer ; 
by denying sleep to the weary eye ; these are the 
means by which the poor gratify their simple 
wishes : and when at last the necessary sum is made 
up ; when all the fears that another might carry off 
the coveted prize, are set at rest ; when it is their 
own, their very own ; the glistening eyes, and the 
flushed cheek, will tell how dearly earned, how 
richly enjoyed. Thus then, we cannot find in our 
hearts to despise even these wrecks of furniture. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



173 



when we reflect that they possess the power of 
yielding positive pleasure. 



The Grand Sablon in point of actual size exceeds 
the others ; but the quantity of ground enclosed will 
not compensate for the architectural beauty, of 
which they bear the palm. It derives its name from 
being covered with sand instead of stone ; to facili- 
tate the exercises of the troops, to which it was 
formerly appropriated. 

A fountain of white marble in the centre, was 
bequeathed to the inhabitants of Brussels, by Bruce, 
Earl of Aylesbury. Thus perpetuating his remem- 
brance in the place where he had passed forty years 
of his life, and gratefully expressing his sense of 
the good will and kindly feeling he had experienced. 

The principal figure is Minerva, holding the 
portraits of Maria Theresa, and Francis the first. 

Fame is on the right, and the Scheldt on the 
left. The shield of the Goddess is held by a 
Genius. 

The arms of Lord Bruce are sculptured under- 
neath. 

The principal fairs are held in this place, lasting 



174 



LETTERS 



for twelve or fourteen days. The stalls are con- 
nected together, forming little streets; and as a 
stranger walks through, he is accosted on all sides, 
each recommending their various wares as being 
the very best, and at the same time marvellously 
cheap ; each endeavouring to persuade him he is in 
actual want of whatever article they may happen to 
sell. 

The Place des Martyrs was formerly called 
Place Saint Michel. The edifices around it are 
good, and a double row of linden trees on the four 
sides, with flowers and plants, make it more a 
garden than a square. The funereal monument of 
an urn, partly veiled, placed on a mausoleum, 
adorned with bas reliefs, is raised to the memory of 
those Belgians who fell in the revolution. Patriots 
and martyrs are their titles, and many, perhaps, 
deserved the names. It is not the misled populace, 
but their intriguing rulers, who are accountable for 
all the horrors attendant on rebellion. The wish 
to improve our circumstances is innate. Who 
would refuse a proffered good, when told it is 
within his grasp ? This powerful excitement, act- 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



175 



ing on those who already suffer privation, rouses 
them to action. Sufferings, hitherto silently borne, 
become intolerable ; desires, hitherto unimagined, 
must be satisfied ; and when these feelings of dis- 
content have been encouraged to the necessary 
pitch, virtue is called in to sanctify the deed. 
They are told to defend their liberty, their country ; 
to preserve the rights of their children, dearer even 
than their own: they struggle — they fall; the sin- 
cere patriot, the protector of his family, and the 
envious, discontented rebel, both give their lives — 
for what? to gratify the ambition, to further the 
paltry intrigues of those leaders, who pretend to 
guard their sacred cause, yet who will recklessly 
doom thousands to misery; who care not, if the 
dead bodies of thousands of their dupes form that 
pile of ruin on which they can sit remorselessly 
triumphant. And what do they then become? 
They become the realization of that tyranny, 
hitherto only conceived by the unhappy populace. 
Why are they hypocrites ? Why do they profane 
the name of patriotism ? Because they do human 
nature the justice to believe, that though many 
may be led by love of gain, yet the mass must be 



176 LETTERS 

led by some higher motive. While, then, we 
despise the instigators of rebellion, we will pity 
and respect those who died for the defence of all 
they held dear. Their bodies were buried in the 
Place des Martyrs, and the women and children 
sitting constantly on the steps of the mausoleum, 
are involuntarily associated in our minds with the 
deceased ; we look at them with interest, as if they 
came to be still near their friends. 



The Place de la Monnaye contains the Mint, 
some good coffee houses, and the Royal Theatre. 
Gold, silver, and copper are coined here; the copper 
coins in this country are abundant. The franc 
contains one hundred centimes, or fifty cents, or 
ten five-cent pieces, all in copper : after being ac- 
customed to English pence and halfpence, we are 
struck with dismay at the demand for twenty or 
thirty centimes, and do not at the moment remem- 
ber that ten of these affairs will amount but to one 
penny; and half a franc sounds much more im- 
posing than an English sixpence, so constantly the 
charge for any trifling service, — sometimes even 



FROM BRUSSELS. 177 

for a glass of water brought to the coach door: 
here, if we are asked fifty centimes, or twenty-five 
cents, we demur, and think it ought to be much 
less. 

Steam machinery is employed in cutting the 
metal; but to judge from the incessant motion of 
the arms, the labourers employed in stamping the 
coin can find it no small exertion. To see the 
process, permission must be obtained from the head 
director; but the labour required is fully visible 
from the Square ; the incessant noise and swinging 
round of the iron machine, induce the idea that 
you are witnessing a species of treadmill, and that 
whatever unlucky mortal stopped, would receive a 
tremendous blow in attempting to regain the iron 
lever, which devolved on his arms to pull back- 
wards and forwards. 



The Royal Theatre is 208 feet long, and 107 
wide ; eight Ionic pillars, thirty feet high, form the 
front, facing the Mint ; and a roofed gallery, open 
at the sides, all round the building, affords a good 
promenade for the amateurs, even in rainy weather. 

i 3 



178 



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The interior is quite large enough, and has three 
tiers of boxes, separated by white pillars. The 
king's box is on the right, close to the stage, hung 
with crimson velvet, and decorated with caryatides. 
Opposite to it, is the ambassador's box. Lower 
than the first row of boxes, and the admission 
tickets the same price, is a double row of seats, 
called the balcony, for those who wish to see the 
stage, and go to the theatre to enjoy the opera 
itself, instead of the more fashionable plan of turn- 
ing the back on it, and looking at the company 
assembled. Boxes, or single seats, may be taken 
at so much per month ; greatly lessening the ex- 
pense, although the full price of a ticket is very 
reasonable, — four francs and a half for the first 
seats. The singing, acting, and dancing, are con- 
sidered good : the scenery, in some of the pieces, 
uncommonly well done. The orchestra, a real 
pleasure to those fond of music. The ceiling is 
painted, but too high to be clearly distinguished, 
and the chandelier is not sufficient to illuminate the 
whole house. When the king attends, other lights 
are placed lower down, to light the house for his 
Majesty, by which his subjects benefit, for without 



FROM BRUSSELS. 179 

these additions, it may be almost called dark. The 
painting of the curtain to represent green velvet is 
excellent. One of the favourite representations 
was " Robert the Devil ; " and being a popular 
Flemish tradition, you will have no objection to 
peruse the substance of the legend. 



180 



LETTERS 



XV. 



ROBERT LE DIABLE. 



The Duke of Normandy was a noble lord called 
Hubert, valiant, courageous, and fearing the Most 
High. He had married the daughter of the Duke 
of Burgundy ; but after several years, being always 
disappointed in the hopes of an heir, a moment of 
despair tempted him to vow, that might his hopes 
but be fulfilled, the child should be devoted to the 
Devil. A year after this, Robert was born : — At 
the birth of this doomed child, the sky was covered 
with clouds, the thunder awfully pealed, the walls 
of the castle shook, and each recited his confession, 
believing the end of the world was come. As an 
infant, Robert was so violent, that no nurse would 
take charge of him ; and a horn was substituted to 



FROM BRUSSELS. 181 

supply him with nourishment. In petticoats he 
was still worse ; he beat and covered with wounds 
the pages and attendants, and stabbed with the 
blow of a knife, the monk appointed to instruct 
him in the precepts of religion, saying to the body 
which he trampled under his feet, " Behold thy 
science ! never shall a priest master me, thou hast 
known it by experience:" and from that time no 
one had courage to teach him. 

When Robert was seventeen he was knighted, 
but the holy ceremonies of knighthood had no 
effect on the ferocious disposition of Robert the 
Devil, so called from his cruelty. He conducted 
himself in the tournaments worse than the lowest 
menial, and instead of using a blunt lance, and the 
sword of courtesy, he cowardly killed those knights 
imprudent enough to joust with him. 

A wish to travel next possessed him, and he 
traversed his father's dukedom, committing greater 
evils than before. Despair and anger succeeded 
grief in the heart of the Duke : he sent armed 
men, to bring his son before him by fair means or 
foul. Robert sent back these men with their eyes 
put out and their hands cut off. 



182 LETTERS 

Duke Hubert then outlawed his son, and pro- 
mised large sums for his apprehension ; but Robert 
the Devil laughed at this, and put himself at the 
head of a troop of men ; thieves, murderers, high- 
waymen, brigands, outlaws, excommunicated, in 
short, all those who, in despair, were ready to 
commit every crime under heaven. Merchants 
or pilgrims could no longer travel in Normandy, 
and the recital of the daily crimes, committed by 
Robert, and his men, kept every one in terror. 
They were surprised that the Almighty would 
permit so much cruelty ; and to add to his crimes 
in the eyes of all good Catholics, he would eat and 
drink, would never fast, and would eat meat on 
Friday, the same as other days. 

Heaven, at length, took pity on the Duke of 
Normandy, and his unfortunate vassals. One day, 
Robert being near the castle of Arques, met a 
shepherd, who told him, the Duchess, his mother, 
would dine that day at the castle. Happy at this 
news, he set out at full speed, but as soon as he ap- 
proached the castle, men, women, and children fled 
before him, like sheep from a wolf. Some shut 
themselves up in their houses, others took refuge 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



183 



in the churches. Robert, seeing himself shunned 
by all, reflected, and mournfully said, " Why does 
every one fly me, why will no one come near 
me ? I am the most wretched of mankind. Alas ! 
I acknowledge my fault, I ask forgiveness of 
heaven, — I detest my miserable existence." 

Robert still pre-occupied, approached the castle, 
left his horse without page or groom, drew his 
sword, and went direct to his mother's presence. 
When she perceived him she was horror-struck; 
but he said to her, " Madam, be not afraid ; com- 
pose yourself, and rely on my word, no harm shall 
happen to you." He then came near her, and 
said to her, " Tell me why I am so cruel and 
wicked; you or my father must be the cause of 
it — tell me the whole truth ?" 

The Duchess astonished at these words, threw 
herself at his feet, entreated his forgiveness, and 
said to him with tears, " My son, take my life, 
and put an end to my sufferings." She said this, 
because she knew she had delivered him over to 
an evil influence from his infancy. Robert answered, 
" Alas ! Madam, why should I kill you, I would 
rather be put to death myself." The Duchess then 



184 LETTERS 

related, that he had been dedicated to the Devil, 
bitterly blaming herself, for having committed such 
an atrocity. Robert hearing his mother speak 
thus, swooned with grief, and on recovering him- 
self, determined to quit his vicious life. He 
begged his mother to intercede for him with his 
father, and resolved before he slept, to go to Rome, 
and confess his sins. 

The first act of repentance savoured much of 
his old habits. He resolved to convert his compa- 
nions in crime, and sought them whilst they were 
at table. " Come, my friends," said he, " for the 
love of God, listen to this warning. You know 
the detestable life we have led, dangerous alike 
to our bodies and souls: you know how many 
churches we have pillaged— how many persons 
we have killed and brought to an untimely grave. 
Let it be, then, your good pleasure, to quit this 
dangerous trade, and henceforward employ your- 
selves in doing penance for the sins you have 
committed. As to myself, I am going to Rome, 
to confess my crimes, to ask pardon of God, and 
submit to whatever penance is imposed on me." 

One of his comrades then arose, and said, " Listen 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



185 



to him, lie is going to turn hermit. Robert 
laughs at us ; he is our chief ; he has been always 
foremost; he has traced to us the path we keep." 
" My friends," said Robert, " I beg you think no 
more of it ; ask pardon of God, he will have mercy 
on you, if you repent." At this second entreaty 
another replied, c< My Lord, give over this dis- 
course ; you speak in vain ; we shall pay no regard 
to your remonstrances, we shall never act other- 
wise ; such is our fate ; we could not live in peace, 
or abstain from evil doing, happen what would." 
When Robert had heard what they had to say, he 
was indignant, seeing them resolved to continue in 
sin. He withdrew to the door of the house, 
closed it, and then with a club, slaughtered them 
one after the other. After this feat, he said to 
himself, my men are well rewarded for the service 
they have done me, but such service brings with 
it such reward. He then thought of setting fire to 
the house, but remembering this might injure 
others, he contented himself with locking the door 
and taking the key away with him. 

At Rome this whimsical penance was decreed 
him ; " In order that you may obtain pardon and 



186 



LETTERS 



mercy, and that all your sins may be remitted, you 
shall from henceforth counterfeit a madman; you 
shall snatch your food from the dogs; you shall 
preserve utter silence, and you shall injure no one. 
Robert scrupulously obeyed : and it was at the 
court of Rome that he lived with the dogs, and 
counterfeited insanity. Robert led this life for 
seven years, supporting it with admirable resigna- 
tion, counting as nothing shame and misery, when 
one day he heard the cries of war resound; The 
Saracens had attacked the emperor; Robert felt his 
heart beat, his hand mechanically sought his sword, 
and tears rolled down his cheeks. God took pity 
on the brave knight, and a voice from heaven com- 
manded him to take his arms, mount the horse 
before him, and go to the succour of the emperor. 
Robert obeyed. The daughter of the emperor was 
then at a window, and beheld* the source from 
whence Robert was armed and mounted ; she would 
have revealed all, but being struck dumb, retained 
it in her memory. Robert threw himself with un- 
equalled courage in the thickest of the fight. He 
struck to the right and left with such impetuosity, 
that heads, arms, and men fell from their horses; 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



187 



each blow gave death to a Saracen ; he put the 
enemy to flight, and victory remained to the em- 
peror. 

After this, Robert returned to the place where 
he had heard the heavenly voice : took off his 
armour, which immediately disappeared, and 
thanked God for having guarded him in the hour 
of danger. 

The emperor inquired of all his knights if they 
knew the hero who had so greatly succoured him. 
All were silent ; the daughter of the emperor alone 
made a sign that it was Robert. The emperor be- 
lieved that terror had disturbed her reason. 

Some days afterwards, a second attack was made 
by the Saracens. Robert again received the ar- 
mour from heaven, gnd proved their metal in the 
thickest of thS fray v Robert fought so valiantly, 
that* victory again* crowned his efforts. 

Whilst returning from the field, the other knights 
accosted him, and said, " we beg you will make 
known to tis your name, and country." Robert 
instead of answering them, fled ; and one of the 
knights despairing to overtake him, struck him 
with a lance in the thigh : the lance was broken, 
and the iron remained in the wound. 



188 LETTERS 

The emperor, grieved that he could not discover 
the valiant knight who had fought so well, caused it 
to be proclaimed in every city, " that if the knight 
with a white horse and armour would come to 
court, bring the head of the lance with which he 
was wounded, and shew the wound, he should have 
the daughter of the emperor in marriage, with half 
the empire as a portion." It is easy to foresee the 
result. An impostor put on white armour, wounded 
himself in the thigh, and demanded the hand of the 
princess; but his artifice was discovered. The 
king's daughter recovered her speech, and told her 
father that Robert had received his arms from 
heaven, and in what place he had concealed the 
iron which wounded him. The penance of Robert 
was remitted. The marriage was celebrated with 
great magnificence, and they set out for Normandy. 
According to the legend, they lived long, beloved 
by rich and poor; preserving peace in the ^duke- 
dom, doing justice to all, *and ^blessed with a son* 
called Richard, who became by his valour, king of 
England, and leagued with the emperor Charle- 
magne, to support the Christian faith against the 
Saracens* s * ; 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



189 



XVL 
TOWN HALL. 



The Hotel de Ville, or Town Hall, is situated in 
the Grande Place, of which it occupies nearly the 
whole of one of the larger sides, and is justly con- 
sidered a strikingly beautiful specimen of the Lom- 
bardy Gothic architecture. A tower of the sarne 
style in the form of a steeple, composed of light 
and open work to its very summit, surmounts the 
whole," rising to the remarkable height of 364 feet. 
The biylding was completed in 1441, by its archi- 
tect, Jean Van Ruy^rodfe. 

A r few years afterwards, was placed on the top, a 
copper statue of Saint Michael, seventeen feet from 
the foot*ta the point of his sword; trampling on the 
devil. The colossal size of the statue 'is plainly 



190 



LETTERS 



apparent to the spectator below; and the claws of 
his satanic majesty are of such awful dimensions, 
that they may well warn the passers by not to come 
within his grasp. 

It is not saying much for the respect which the 
Brusselines pay their patron saint, or the thanks 
they owe him for keeping the devil under, to ex- 
pose him to the summer's heat and winter's blast, 
and at all times and seasons expect him to indicate 
the will of iEolus. 

But let us leave this explanation of their feelings 
to those who are disposed to ridicule, and we will 
view it in another light; let us imagine the up- 
raised sword of the saint points to them, the sure 
reward of those victories gained over their evil in- 
clinations, if kept under, as St. Michael is repre- 
sented subduing his adversary. 

There are three entrances. The entrance to the 
saloons, used on all state occasions, is a flight of 
stone steps, having on each side of the lowest step, 
the Belgic lion, well carved in stone, and holding 
an escutcheon, with the letters S. P. Q. B. sculp- 
tured on it, signifying Senatus Populus Que 
Bruxellensis. On the right of this is the public 



FROM BRUSSELS. 191 

entrance, a large iron gate, open from nine in the 
morning until three ; but besides these two, and 
the easiest plan of finding the concierge, or 
keeper of the building, is the back entrance. If 
you go in by the public gate in front of the Hotel 
de Ville, and ask permission to be shewn over it, 
you are driven from Bureaux on the left, to 
Bureaux on the right, from military Bureaux, to 
civil Bureaux, without being at all nearer the 
attainment of your wishes ; but by humbly entering 
the back door, you will perceive on the right, a 
small narrow green door, leading to the abode of 
the concierge. The best time to see the whole of 
the building, is about six or seven in the evening 
in summer, as then you will meet with no obstruc- 
tions, because the offices in which public business is 
transacted, are shut. 

The front has six hexagon towers, and forty 
windows, and in the slated roof numbers of case* 
ment windows ; and though it looks so well as a 
magnificent piece of architecture, you will quickly 
observe that it is not regular ; the tower is not in 
the centre, consequently one half is smaller than 
the other ; the windows are not alike on both sides, 



192 LETTERS 

the arches are not alike; this irregularity has given 
rise to several stories, as every circumstance a little 
out of the common way is sure to do. Amongst 
others, the poor architect has been made to hang 
himself in despair, at finding the proportions incor- 
rect, when too late to remedy the evil. 

Tradition further states, that the ground on 
which this building is erected, was so swampy that 
the foundation rests upon hides of oxen. 

The court is square, paved with white and blue 
stone, so as to form a twelve pointed star in the 
centre ; and for the supply of water there are two 
fountains, each representing the figure of a river 
deity, lying amongst rushes, and leaning on an 
urn ; a large stone vase, placed on two dolphins, 
receives the water, which flows from the nostrils of 
two other dolphins, having Tritons on their backs. 
Whatever Tritons were in reality, they are here 
brought before us in the pleasing form of two little 
naked boys, fat and happy, blowing shells. 

The saloons are the interior attraction, and are all 
worthy attention. The approach to them is a long 
gallery. Full-length portraits of royalty are painted 
on the walls ; and you are told, that Philip the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 193 

Good, Charles V., Philip II., the Archduke Albert, 
the Archduchess Isabella, Philip IV., and Charles 
IL, are represented. After passing, with proper 
awe, before this illustrious company, you enter a 
small dark ante-room, where a very old painting- 
represents the ancient magistracy of Brussels. This 
ante-rooms leads to the grand saloon, ornamented 
with gilded festoons and acorns, on a stone-coloured 
ground ; at the head of the room, on a panel of 
blue, is the cipher of their present Majesties. 

The saloon, called the Chamber of the States, 
from its having been used by the States of Bra- 
bant, during their deliberations, is magnificent. 
The walls are covered with tapestries, forming three 
pictures, executed by Leyniers, from designs by 
Jansens, They are now much faded, but still prove 
what has been accomplished by talent and industry. 
The richness of tapestry, as a hanging, cannot be 
exceeded, and quite fulfils the lordly ideas we may 
have conceived of tapestried halls and chambers. 
Brussels was celebrated for its manufactory of this 
article, and other countries were furnished by her 
with designs. The Empress Maria Theresa annu- 
ally purchased a considerable quantity, sending it 

K 



194 



LETTERS 



as presents to foreign princes ; but now nothing of 
the kind exists. The colour least injured is red 9 
and this arises from being dyed with cochineal, 
which the destructive insects will not touch. 

The first of these pictures just mentioned is the 
inauguration of Philip the Good ; the second, the 
abdication of Charles V. ; the third, the inaugura- 
tion of Charles VI, The beautiful painted ceiling 
brings before you all the heathen deities, and Jupi- 
ter, in the act of presenting a crown to the city of 
Brussels, over whom Mercury also extends his ea- 
duceus. The space between it and the tapestry is 
filled up with a very richly-sculptured gold cornice. 
At the end of the room 5 two large looking-glasses 
stand over two slabs, on which is delineated a 
map of Brabant. In this room you are also shewn 
the keys of the town, and, like all your predeces- 
sors, you will take them in your hand. 

Three of the saloons are hung with the history of 
Clovis, beginning with his embassy, demanding the 
hand of Clotilda, and ending with his death, after 
portraying the several scenes of his victories, bap- 
tism, nuptials, and marriage feast. They must have 
been superb ; but in their present state, we grieve 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



195 



over the ravages of time, which have prevented our 
witnessing their full beauty. 

In the chamber called the Conference, the ceiling, 
divided into three compartments, represents the 
three orders of Brabant — the nobility, clergy, and 
third estate. The ground-floor is appropriated to 
municipal offices ; and nothing further will demand 
your notice, unless you are tempted to ascend to 
the top of the steeple ; after this exertion, you will 
be glad to repose. 



196 



LETTERS 



XVII. 



Now for the adventure of the architect. — You have 
not forgotten, that the name of this great man was 
Jean de Ruysbroeck. When he wished to place 
his Tower on the spot where, according to the will 
of Henry the First, the effigy of St. Michael was to 
be elevated, a monk proposed to him to refer the 
decision to the saint himself; the monks of 
Afflighen, having a pen of his, by which the trial 
might be made. The pen was thrown into the air, 
and it fell on the spot where you see the Obelisk. 

Another time, Jean de Ruysbroeck consulted 
a holy woman, who lived near Saint Nicholas ; she 
told him to dig the foundations, and place his tower 
as a centre for the city, on the spot where he 
should find (twenty-seven feet below the surface), 
two little stone lions, emblems of Brussels and 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



197 



Brabant. You may see them in the rue de TAmi, 
where they serve as fountains. 

Let us now come to the third edition of the story. 
You have observed that the two sides of the building 
are not alike. If you take away the tower, the en- 
trance with the lions will be exactly in the centre of 
that front ; the other part, on the right, is not the 
work of Jean de Ruysbroeck, who began from 
the rue de l'Etoile, and stopped at his beautiful 
tower. 

As he wished to erect this monument, and render 
it lasting, he soon perceived that the town could 
not give him funds enough ; therefore, his work 
would never be completed. But he was not dis- 
couraged: he was in the habit of saying he would 
give himself to the devil, rather than leave the 
building unfinished. 

One day he was at an utter stand for money, and 
knew not what to do; when he saw a friar enter his 
house, who came from the rue de la Madelaine, and 
said to him, " You are in want of money ; I am in 
want of a faithful servant ; if you will be mine, sign 
this contract on parchment, and here is the gold." 
The friar carried under his cloak a portmanteau 



198 LETTERS 

bigger than himself— a portmanteau that ten men 
could not have lifted. 

Jean saw immediately who he had to deal with, 
restrained himself from making the sign of the cross, 
and said abruptly, " The bargain is made, if you 
will give me the means wherewith to build the other- 
wing, and complete the edifice, so that the tower 
shall stand in the centre/' 

" No, no," said the friar, " since you have recog- 
nized me, you must understand, that we can do 
nothing regularly : but you shall raise your tower 
high in the air, and your name shall be immor- 
talized." 

The eyes of the friar shone on his pale counte- 
nance, like two burning coals on a heap of cinders. 
Jean de Ruysbroeck signed the agreement ; and all 
went on so well, that in 1420, when they had no 
longer any thing to do but raise the tower, which 
he was determined should reach five hundred feet, 
he ordered the foundations of the second part of the 
Hotel de Ville to be begun, in spite of the formal 
prohibition, of the friar. He only found a swampy 
soil, and pits, which were every night filled with 
water. He, however, began the base, which was 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



199 



iaid on ox-hides, but could never be carried further 
than you now see ; for a gulph lay at the end, where 
a street now passes. The fiend, afraid that he 
would finish it, seized on Jean de Ruysbroeck be- 
fore the appointed time, and filled him with such 
despair of mortified vanity, that he hung himself at 
his door. 

His house was in the rue de PEtoile. A good 
monk of the order of St. Francis was passing, after 
saying mass to the work people. He perceived the 
architect ; took him down ; put his stole around his 
neck, and exorcised him; for he saw that he was 
possessed of the devil. Jean returned to life, and 
began to howl ; but the monk was not afraid, and 
other holy brethren came to his support. The 
devil, stoutly assailed, was at length dislodged, and 
threw himself into the gulph of which we speak. 

The released architect fell on his knees, full of 
repentance : he ended his days in the Convent des 
Bogards, and his son continued his work. 

They dragged the gulph in which the demon had 
thrown himself, and found an immense gilt head, 
which the next day lost its gilding, and became a 
solid bronze. Of this bronze was made the effigy 
of the devil, under the feet of the archangel. 



200 



LETTERS 



The new architect, to leave his father all the 
glory, did not extend the right wing further, and 
finished it irregularly, and differing in many details 
from the original construction. The gulph was 
filled up, and the street over it is called rue de la 
T6te d'Or. 

In 1448, a chapel was built in the Hotel de Ville, 
where mass is said daily for the soul of Jean de 
Ruysbroeck. 



The grand saloon of the Hotel de Ville was the 
prison of the Counts of Egmont and Horne, who 
were beheaded for their patriotism in the Grande 
Place, on the 5th of June, 1568. Count Egmont 
was generous, sincere, and affable. Governor of 
Flanders and Artois, he was almost worshipped. 
He had married Sabina of Bavaria, by whom he 
had eleven children. His friend, Philip de Mont- 
morency, Count of Horne, formerly governor of 
Guelderland, was brave, even to excess. At this 
time, Margaret of Austria, sister of Philip II., 
governed Belgium; but the affairs were entirely 
conducted by Granvelle, Archbishop of Malines. 
The two nobles abovementioned were members 



FROM BRUSSELS. 201 

of the council of state, where Granvelle carried 
matters with so high a hand, that they soon ceased 
to present themselves. Irritation against the Car- 
dinal grew to such a pitch, that Margaret wrote to 
Spain, to demand his recall. Home and Egmont 
sent at the same time, and on the same account, a 
letter signed by all the principal noblemen. Philip, 
in answer, invited the complainants to come to him. 
Count Egmont, therefore, went to Spain, was 
watched whilst there, and returned with unmeaning 
words. However, Granvelle was so generally hated, 
that on the 10th of March he quitted Brussels. 
Counts Home and Egmont, after his departure, 
retook their seats at the council board ; but confi- 
dence never returned; the seed of dissension w T as 
not stifled ; the anger of the King w T as dreaded, 
and with reason. 

They soon learnt, that instead of the small army 
of three thousand men, which Philip had been 
obliged to withdraw from the Netherlands, he sent 
one of twenty thousand; and Granvelle was re- 
placed by the Duke D'Alba, who arrived with full 
powers. His character was known. It was known 
that he had said, that a rebellious country ought to 

k3 



202 



LETTERS 



be utterly rooted out ; that it was better to have a 
ruined kingdom, than none at all. Counts Egmont 
and Home had so publicly committed themselves, 
that every effort was used to induce them to quit the 
Netherlands ; but they would not forsake their 
country, when she most wanted support. 

The Duke of Alba entered Brussels on the 22d 
of August, 1567, accompanied by his two sons, Fre- 
derick and Ferdinand, and a numerous retinue. His 
name had inspired terror, and his presence con- 
firmed it. Sixty years old, with an olive com- 
plexion, a prominent forehead, dark and glaring 
eyes, a long acquiline nose, uneven teeth, and grey 
hair, he had a repulsive, disdainful, and threatening 
voice, more than Spanish pride, and was brutal in 
his actions. He was avaricious, severe, bloody, and 
implacable : he had talent for war. His arrival in 
the Netherlands put to flight one-tenth of the popu- 
lation. He sent for Count Egmont, received him, 
flattered him, and treated Count Home in the same 
manner ; he wished to lull their fears. 

A fortnight after his arrival, he convoked an 
assembly, to which he specially invited them, wish- 
ing, as he said, to avail himself of their experience 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



203 



about some fortresses which he intended erecting. 
It appears they had been secretly warned not to go; 
but they went, and only found the learned Viglius 
de Zuichem, who changed colour at sight of them. 

After the customary salutations, he said, " You 
do not, then, think of leaving Brussels ? Those who 
have done so, have shewn prudence.' 3 " Whilst 
you remain," replied Egmont, " we shall." " Oh, 
I shall remain," said Viglius, " were it only to pre- 
vent evil; every one cannot desert; but you — I 
should have thought that you ought — do you not 
know that Spain has sent orders to embroil you with 
your friends, and is vexed at not having succeeded ? 
I am a Belgian ; I would have wished that misfor- 
tune should have spared your noble heads; but 
nothing is forgotten ; they remember the beggar's 
cries ; the caricatures of Granvelle ; all is remem- 
bered. The Duke of Alba will not return for an 
hour ; he has commanded, that this day all the 
Spaniards should hold themselves in readiness to 
oppose whatever tumult might arise. He has 
quoted the words of Philip II., " that in desperate 
circumstances, like those of the Netherlands, a bitter 
medicine was necessary." He has said, " that he 



204 LETTERS 

would rather have the heads of two salmon, than all 
the frogs of a marsh ; — go." 

The two noblemen took the hand of Viglius. 
They might, perhaps, have profited by his advice, 
when the Duke suddenly entered. They gave 
themselves up to their fate. The Duke received 
them so graciously, that they forgot their fears ; 
whilst at that very moment they were examining 
Count Egmont's secretary, the Burgomaster of 
Antwerp, and many others of their friends. 

At five in the evening, the Duke dismissed the 
Council. Pretending to accompany Egmont, he 
took him into the midst of several Spanish officers, 
and arrested him in the name of the King ; whilst 
in another room, Don Ferdinand, by a similar ma- 
noeuvre, declared Count Home his prisoner. 

The news occasioned a general consternation in 
Brussels ; thirty thousand persons quitted the Ne- 
therlands in the following week ; and the Duke sent 
his two captives to the castle of Ghent, with an 
escort of fifteen hundred men. 

On the arrest of the two Counts, Margaret of 
Austria quitted Belgium ; and after her departure, 
the Duke of Alba threw off all restraint. The 



FROM BRUSSELS. 205 

Council was soon composed of the Duke alone, 
aided by the Spaniard, Jean Vargars, his evil spirit. 

The Attorney-General was ordered to prepare 
the warrant of Home and Egmont, with injunc- 
tions not to permit the accused to have any advo- 
cates, to counsel or defend them. They were only 
permitted to answer verbally each point of accusa- 
tion. 

On the 1st of June, eighteen gentlemen were 
beheaded at Brussels; on the 2d, several others 
were executed, accompanied by the sound of drums, 
to stifle their cries ; on the 3d, the two Counts were 
brought from Ghent to Brussels, guarded by two 
thousand five hundred men. 

On the 4th, at midnight, the Bishop of Ypres 
was charged with the painful task of reading their 
sentence, and preparing them for death. After the 
reading of this sentence, which adjudged them to 
have their heads cut off, and elevated in some pub- 
lic spot, forbidding any man to remove them on 
pain of death, and declaring, moreover, all their 
goods confiscated to his Majesty, Egmont said, 
66 It is a cruel sentence ; I did not expect so much 
severity. Poverty and distress must be the lot of 



206 



LETTERS 



my eleven children; of my wife, daughter of the 
Duke of Bavaria." The Count Home kept a dead 
silence. He was fifty years old, and Count Egmont 
forty-seven. The Bishop, who looked on them as 
martyrs, mournfully told them to rest their hopes 
on Heaven. Egmont wrote to his wife, to endea- 
vour to console her. Their future being closed; 
the two friends confessed, slept for some hours, and 
prepared for death. 

On the morning of the 5th of June, the eve of 
Whit-Sunday, a red flag hung on the tower of the 
Hotel de Ville, a scaffold covered with black was 
erected in the middle of the Grande Place ; at the 
end was a silver crucifix, and on two broken 
columns two long pikes were raised, to receive the 
two heads. Twenty companies of the infantry oc- 
cupied the square. The neighbouring streets 
were guarded by soldiers, for they feared the 
people. 

Precisely at twelve, Count Egmont appeared, 
conducted by the Bishop, who accompanied him to 
the scaffold. Not a sound was heard but the slight 
clatter of arms, and the sobs of the multitude. 
Egmont was firm, but much affected. He walked 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



207 



with a steady step to the executioner, who it is 
said, was one of his old servants. He bade adieu 
to the crowd, took off his cloak, bound his eyes 
with a silk handkerchief, and knelt on a black 
velve t cushion, recommending his soul to the 
Almighty. 

The executioner struck off his head at one blow, 
and the body was immediately covered with a 
shroud. At this moment, in the Maison du Roi, 
a little window was half opened, a frightful head 
appeared, it was the Duke of Alba. 

Count Home then arrived. He wore a black 
mantle, and a cap of black velvet. Mounting the 
scaffold, he saw the body of his friend, and turning 
towards the assistants, said with a smile, " Behold, 
gentlemen, a brilliant example for those who have 
masters ;" pulling his cap over his eyes, and taking 
off his mantle, he presented his head and was deca- 
pitated. A long cry of horror, w T hich burst from 
the Grande Place, immediately filled the town. 
Those who were shut up in their houses answered 
it. The good people of Brussels hastened to steep 
their handkerchiefs in the blood which flowed from 



•208 LETTERS 

the scaffold. The two heads of Home and Egmont 
were placed for two hours on the points of the 
halberts ; the people fled with horror, and the little 
window in the Maison du Roi was again closed. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



209 



XVIII. 



Is it not a natural wish on any absence from home, 
to take something back to those we have left be- 
hind, some little proof that they have been remem- 
bered ? and though, very truly, in England we can 
procure every novelty, yet it has not the attrac- 
tion of coming from abroad; besides, perhaps, the 
very act of bringing it safely for so many miles, 
of passing it through the ordeal of custom-houses, 
steam boats, coaches, and all the dangers, menacing 
its perhaps fragile beauty, will enhance the pleasure 
both to the giver and receiver; there is such a 
charm in the consciousness of having in your pos- 
session what you know will gratify the smiling 
faces that welcome you home. To indulge this 
amiable propensity, go to this shop — Au Tambour 
Rouge, V. J. B. Juste, No. 43, Rue Montagne de 



210 



LETTERS 



la Cour. Many pretty affairs are in the lower 
part of the shop, but if you ask to be shewn up 
stairs, a greater variety will tempt you. Toys for 
children without end ; elegant specimens of Pari- 
sian workmanship for older friends. Boxes, baskets, 
souvenirs innumerable ; and in another room, orna- 
mented articles in china, &c. ; but all is not gold 
that glitters, and the earings, bracelets, broaches, 
are only gilt. You will also find some of the Berlin 
iron work. 

The rue de la Madelaine, and the rue Mon- 
tagne de la Cour, form the principal streets, and 
the windows are dressed out with all that is likely 
to catch the eye ; consequently, strangers, especially 
those who only remain in Brussels a short time, 
make their purchases in this street. English is 
understood, and often spoken by the shop-women ; 
but flattered as we ought to be by this predilection 
for our language, the sound of our native tongue 
on these occasions, instead of being grateful to the 
ear, unfortunately reminds us, that English people 
are expected to pay English prices; and that the 
price asked, is double what a native of the place 
would pay. It requires no small share of assurance, 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



211 



to tell the very polite, well dressed madame who 
attends you, that half what she demands is enough 
for the article ; consequently, you think her abso- 
lutely cheating; yet you must either get rid of 
your scruples, as to offending the delicacy of her 
feelings, and drive a downright bargain, or else 
leave the shop, with the satisfaction of know- 
ing you have given for one article what should 
have purchased two, and that Madame secretly 
congratulates herself on your having more money 
than wit. 

However, at the names mentioned in this chapter 
you will be fairly dealt with, as far as paying the 
same price as others. Hellemans, Veldekens, 
No. 34, Grande Place, for the Berlin patterns and 
worsteds and silks. These are good, and much 
more reasonable than they are in England. Tent 
stitch, and cross stitch, appear in great request, 
for chairs, screens, bell-ropes, slippers, &c. ; em- 
broidery is much used for ornamental parts of dress; 
and very pretty are the embroidered aprons, scarfs, 
bags and bands. They are expensive to purchase ; 
but those who do not disdain work, may supply 
themselves, by the exercise of good taste, at a small 



212 



LETTERS 



cost of material. What a fund of amusement and 
usefulness does the needle furnish ! Not only is 
work a peculiarly feminine occupation, but a lady, 
at her work table, with all its appendages of bright 
colours, delicate materials, and graceful implements, 
is placed in one of her most attractive attitudes. 
It is her province ; she looks gentle, she looks inno- 
cent ; she is employed ; she can do actual good in 
those hours which would so heavily linger. And 
yet, many say, they do not like work, and say it, 
as if that speech were to convey they were superior 
to it ; their minds require far higher occupation ; 
their time was too precious, to be mechanically 
used; but, believe me, they fail to produce the 
impression of astonishing intellect ; all are not born 
alike : naturally high spirits or restlessness of cha- 
racter, and in some few, actual love of study, may 
induce a distaste of this quiet employment ; but it 
is nothing to boast of ; a woman may have strength 
of mind, intellect, talent ; may acquire information 
by both reading and learning ; yet all this will not 
prevent her liking work ; on the contrary her mind 
after being exerted, will turn to it as a resource, 
as a delightful relaxation, and a very clever wo- 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



213 



man will then say and feel, she is very fond of 
work. 

Teach little girls not only to work, but to be 
fond of it. How lovely they look when lessons are 
over, in what they call their play hours ! all eager, 
all chattering, all their little lingers busily moving ; 
some clothing dolly (that indispensable pro- 
perty of feminine, well-bred little girls), some 
making a wonderful needle-book or pincushion for 
mamma, which is to excel all other needle-books 
or pincushions ever invented ; and others a little 
older, whose opening minds have been already 
trained to love virtue, and even at their age, do 
some good, are industriously making a frock or 
shirt for a poor child, purchased with their own 
money, in preference to any other indulgence; 
thus at once exercising three virtues, self-denial, 
charity and industry. 

We will turn from this digression, to speak of 
what never encounters disdain ; no one is too clever 
to wear a handsome silk, a magnificent shawl, or a 
Chantilly veil, and all these may be found without 
further search, at J. B. Demeure, rue de la Mon- 
tagne, Pres du Marche aux Herbes, No. 4. There 
is a great difference between a real Chantilly veil 



214 



LETTERS 



and an imitation, if you know where to look for it ; 
the blond, instead of forming intrinsically a part of 
the whole, is only laid on the lace foundation: they 
will say it is all blond, true blond, and swear to 
you nothing can be more perfect ; they are right, 
blond it certainly is; but examine the edges, and 
yqu will find that they have been sown on, and the 
foundation cut away at the back ; therefore, it is 
not the real Chantilly veil manufactured in one 
piece. The imitation is called " application," and 
apparently the same, but of course the difference 
would be perceptible by its inferior durability. 
The Brussels point lace is beautiful; the manu- 
factory, by far the best place to purchase it, both 
for price and variety of choice, is situated in the 
rue des Parchemens. 

Well-made boots and shoes may be obtained at 
Van Meerbeck's, No. 47, rue Montagne de la 
Cour. 

Dutch clocks of every description are sold at 
C. Wybo's, rue de Sainte Catherine, No. 24 ; 
small clocks, with a face not much bigger than a 
five-franc piece ; large clocks, with an open coun- 
tenance as big as a soup plate ; some with a rose, 
from which a bird puts forth his head, and at every 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



215 



stroke says cuckoo; others, with an orchestra, 
who raise their trumpets, and pretend to give us 
some musical air — it is the most provoking shop to 
a person lazily inclined : these dozens of . clocks, 
with their everlasting tick, tick, not only shew 
how fast time flies (that time, of which one moment 
gone, will never return), but they are so deter- 
minate^ busy, that they would shame us into some 
employment. 

Marble seems easy of attainment in this country, 
so much so, that it is used for the tops of articles 
of furniture in preference to wood, as being cheaper, 
besides more durable. It has another advantage, 
that of being so easily kept in order. The prin- 
cipal marble cutter, is Deldine, No. 28, rue de 
Ruysbroeck en face du Palais de Justice. Many 
superb chimney pieces may be seen in his shop ; 
a beautiful light brown marble attracted the most 
attention, but the black, red and yellow, was also 
very handsome. To make the pedestal of a bronze, 
this man might be found useful ; but in this case, 
he will require, at least, to have his work well 
examined by yourself before payment is made, you 
may otherwise find it not so well got up as could 
be wished, to set off a small object. 



216 LETTERS 

Is any one afflicted with a mania for old carved 
work, and wishes to see some really good speci- 
mens, let him go to the house of Sowess, a sculptor, 
close to the Place des Martyrs, indeed the street 
partly forms one of the sides of this square. The 
youth himself has the pale face, and bright but 
sunken eye of Genius, and moreover no small 
portion of contempt for those who offer prices, or 
ask questions, betraying their incapacity to appre- 
ciate his art; but, he generally has in his studio, 
some objects worthy admiration. We saw there 
some twisted pillars wreathed with leaves, the fac 
simile of those represented as forming the Gate 
Beautiful, in the Acts of the Apostles — they be- 
longed to an old chateau A carved warrior, whose 
hand was skilfully repaired by one of the pupils ; 
and a most elaborate piece of carving, portraying 
the principal events of our Saviour's life. This 
latter had been purchased from a church by a 
dealer, and sent to be repaired, for which alone 
Sowess was to receive forty pounds. Such pieces 
of workmanship as these, every one must value ; 
but the worst of having a love for old carved work 
is, that it so sadly degenerates. We begin by 
admiring what is really good, we purchase it, and 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



217 



the joy of possessing what others also admire, and 
what is not very easily attained, leads to a search 
for more ; the next acquisition may not be quite so 
good, but still not bad ; and by dint of repairs, a 
hand fastened on this fellow's arm, a nose on the 
other's face, sundry worm holes filled up, and the 
joins carefully painted over, we comfort ourselves 
that we have another prize, and again call on our 
friends to look : our friends admired the first, be- 
cause it was worth it ; they admire the second from 
good nature, because they will not mortify and 
damp our joy; but, alas! this propensity goes on 
increasing, till it does become a mania; we no 
longer distinguish merit ; we see an uncouth piece 
of wood, worm-eaten and mutilated ; it is old ; we 
see on it lumps, and cuts, and scratches and holes ; 
it is carved work ; we rush on our prize, eagerly 
pay what is asked, and fill every corner with other 
people's lumber, — and our friends, they can no more 
admire ; some will laugh, the kinder hearted will 
pity ; and an inclination, which originated in good 
taste, will have ended in folly. 

L 



218 



LETTERS 



XIX, 

We have said, that the pulpit of St. Gudule was 
carved by Henry Verbruggen, of Antwerp ; joyous, 
thoughtless, and a bon vivant, he only cared for 
two things : his profession first, and afterwards his 
pleasure. 

He had married, like all artists who marry, from 
the absolute want of fresh sensations, from the hope 
of finding an angel in a woman of an open and mo- 
dest countenance, of a light and flexible figure, of a 
gentle and submissive disposition. He married 
Martha Van Meeren ; she was so timid, so pretty, 
so good, that he thought he had found one of the 
Muses, for he only looked to that. But terrestrial 
by nature, the good Martha, poor young woman, 
soon shewed herself a housekeeping wife. She 
reckoned every expense, she recoiled from debt, and 
tried to preserve order in her household : Ver- 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



219 



bruggen exclaimed she was not fit for an artist's 
wife. 

He had been married for some years. His wife, 
who would have been the excellent and mild com- 
panion of a steady man, the treasure of a merchant, 
was become in his eyes, sad, and almost reproach- 
ful. She lamented for herself who had no money ; 
for her daughter who wanted clothes ; for her house, 
which was paltry. She cried out a little against 
her husband, who drank; against his friends, who en- 
ticed him to the ale-house ; against the neighbours^ 
who blamed him. Poor Martha was not happy. 

Verbruggen also complained; the fascination 
was over. Does an artist know what he wants ? 
He wanted a wife, thoughtless as himself ; let those 
who understand the human heart answer, would he 
have loved such a wife ? 

It was near the birth of his second child, when 
the Jesuits of Louvain, knowing his talent, ordered 
a pulpit for their church. The artist was in ecstasy. 
He began to think ; and imagined a composition, 
vast and admirable, which should contain, as it were 
in a book, the history of the Christian religion. 

The artist set to work. He went on with spirit, 



220 



LETTERS 



but without giving up his pleasures ; and the greater 
the applause lavished on his genius, the more his 
wife lamented his folly. 

Irritated by these reproaches, Verbruggen re- 
solved to revenge himself in his chef d'oeuvre, and 
thus perpetuate his revenge ; he had finished the 
body of the pulpit, and was carving the stairs. 

He was determined, in his irritation, to abuse 
women. An artist is never capable of this, but in 
a moment of bad temper. In this fit of anger, 
more spiteful than wicked, Henry Verbruggen 
thought that he would punish Martha, by charac- 
terising woman with satirical emblems. On the 
stair-case by the side of Eve, who still holds the 
apple in her hand, he placed a peacock, the emblem 
of pride ; a squirrel, the emblem of destruction ; a 
cock, the emblem of noise; a monkey, the emblem 
of malice ; four faults which would never have 
found their way into the heart of Martha. Then 
wishing to complete his lesson, he placed by the 
side of man the eagle, emblem of genius. * * 

He was just there with his work when Martha 
expired, some hours after giving birth to his child. 

It is said men never know the value of a wife 5 



FROM BRUSSELS. 221 

until they have lost her. The carver proved the 
truth of this ; he wept for Martha, he reproached 
himself for the pain he had given her. He no 
longer felt in spirits to work. He soon became still 
more aware of the value of a good wife. He was 
accustomed to care, to attention; Martha had a 
hand always ready for his wants. It grieved him 
to return to his desolate house ; to have no one to 
prepare his meals, to look after his clothes. 

At the end of six months, his friends seeing him 
going to ruin, entreated him, as a last resource, to 
take another wife. You regret Martha, they said, 
but you may do still better ; you are only six and 
thirty, marry Cecilia Byns. She is fit for an artist's 
wife, for she paints herself. She is like you, gay 
and lively; you will give your child a second 
mother, and yourself a charming companion. 

Verbruggen followed this good advice, and payed 
court to Cecilia. In a short time he loved her, but 
he had no longer to deal with the disposition of 
Martha. Cecilia was one of those women, who smile, 
but have a will of their own ; of those women, who 
captivate a man, conquer him, lead him, impose on 
him heavy chains, and require, that he shall bless 



222 



LETTERS 



those chains. Happy women ! for they are loved ; 
clever women ! for they know how to retain affec- 
tion. Cecilia had wit. As soon as she saw the 
artist desperately in love, she ruled him. " I could 
love you," said she, "but your good name suffers; 
people complain of the apathy in which you live. 
The chef d'oeuvre of your chisel, which might 
render a woman proud to bear the name of Ver- 
bruggen, is not finished." 

" Say but the word," said he, " and it shall be 
done." She accompanied, him to his workshop, 
and seeing the emblems which he had placed by 
the side of woman, asked the meaning of them. 
The carver blushed ; " When I did what surprises 
you," he said, u I was unacquainted with Cecilia 
Byns." 

" Very well," replied the young woman ; " but 
after giving us these symbols of faults, which, per- 
haps, do not belong to us, how did you intend to 
designate your sex?" 

" I had already commenced," replied he, again 
blushing. " You see the eagle ? it was, perhaps, 
vanity in me to put it there." 

" Not the least in the world ; the eagle, a bird 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



223 



of prey, is brutal tyranny. What are you going 
to add?" 

We do not know what Verbruggen stammered ; 
but Cecilia said to him, " to be just with men, as 
you have been with us, you shall put near the 
eagle, a fox, the emblem of deception ; a parrot, 
the emblem of foolish talking ; a monkey eating 
grapes, the emblem of intoxication ; and the jay, 
an emblem of self-conceit. 

" Confess, my dear Verbruggen, that these quali- 
ties belong to men, like the faults of the other stair- 
case belong to us; and when this great work is 
completed, I shall be happy to go to the altar with 

you.'' 

The carver was submissive in his turn; he did 
not answer a word, but quietly executed the orders 
given. The pulpit was the object of universal 
praise ; the artist married Cecilia, and from that 
time, his works were never distinguished by any 
insult to women. 



224 



LETTERS 



XX. 

In our promenade of the squares, we must not 
omit to visit that of the Petit Sablon, interesting 
not from its architecture or size, but from the fol- 
lowing incidents : — 

At the end of December, 1429, Philip the Good, 
sovereign of the greater part of the Netherlands, 
but not yet Duke of Brabant, was betrothed to Isa- 
bella of Portugal. But in spite of his affection for 
Isabella, he had not banished from his heart a lady 
of Bruges, whose mind and rare beauty had capti- 
vated him, although her hair was of that doubtful 
colour, that to make the peculiarity in fashion, he 
had promised to create, in honour of her, the order 
of the golden fleece, which was done at his marriage 
with the Princess of Portugal, that occasion afford- 
ing a good excuse. 

Having proceeded with his court from Bruges to 
Brussels, to celebrate the Christmas festival, he 



FROM BRUSSELS. 225 

wished to send a letter and a present to this lady, 
who was then at Termond ; the Prince not liking 
her to remain at Bruges whilst the marriage prepa- 
rations were going on, He took care not to consult 
his pious confessor on the subject; he dared not 
charge with this commission his own king of the 
revels, who was too careless ; or his own body ser- 
vant, who was too devout; he therefore fixed on 
Fyot to deliver his message. 

Fyot was a jolly hunchback, who might have well 
filled the office of city fool. He was a bit of a 
lawyer, prepared warrants, made out writings, took 
charge of all delicate affairs, was always smiling, 
pleased every one, and had many times amused the 
Duke. He had three sons, who tenderly loved 
him, called Lawrence, Paul, and Gery. The eldest 
was eight-and- twenty, the youngest nineteen. 
Philip having sent for Fyot, confided to him, 
almost in a whisper the secret mission. The hunch- 
back promised to fulfil it faithfully ; and, 66 if your 
Highness will order me a good horse," he added, 
" 1 will reach Termond this evening, and to-morrow 
bring you the answer." 

The Duke sent for James Roussay, one of the 
l 3 



226 



LETTERS 



four-and-twenty archers of his guard, and com- 
manded him to equip immediately, for his friend 
Fyot, one of his best horses. He put a purse into 
the hands of the hunchback, who, in another quarter 
of an hour was outside Brussels. 

Gaiety has sometimes the misfortune of being 
satirical, and Fyot had an enemy. It was an attor- 
ney, called Nicholas, who gained his bread by pur- 
suing honest people, and fomenting lawsuits with 
as much eagerness as the hunchback shewed in pre- 
venting them, to the great discomfort of this bad 
man. He had many times laughed at the attorney 
for his square, bony, gaunt figure, and his small 
grey eyes, hidden under his bushy eyebrows. The 
attorney had sworn to revenge himself, but dared 
not do it publicly, for fear of the justice of Philip 
the Good. 

It happened that this very attorney was returning 
from Termond, and met, in a wood, the poor hunch- 
back, riding at full speed* It rained torrents ; the 
roads were deserted ; the sky was dark ; night was 
coming on. Nicholas, recognizing his enemy at a 
distance, resolved to profit by this favourable oppor- 
tunity. He stood in the middle of a narrow part of 



FROM BRUSSELS. *227 

the road, stopped the horse, and struck Fyot with a 
heavy cudgel, leaving him for dead in the ditch. 
Perhaps he did not mean to carry his revenge so 
far; but, without any remorse, he pillaged the 
hunchback, mounted his horse, and continued his 
route towards Brussels, thinking of what he should 
next do. He did not intend to enter the town with 
the horse; this circumstance might have betrayed 
him. 

But it also happened, that the Duke, after the 
departure of his messenger, reflecting on the pre- 
sent he had sent to his beloved, did not think it 
enough, and determined to add to it a beautiful 
peart necklace, to comfort her in her solitude. He 
sealed the parcel himself, and this time sent for 
James Roussay; and, telling him the inn where 
Fyot was to stop, he ordered him to give the parcel, 
to be delivered with the letter. The archer set out 
an hour after the departure of Fyot. 

The attorney had not proceeded two miles on the 
horse of the hunchback, when he perceived the 
black and grey livery of the Duke. In an instant 
he was face to face with James Roussay, who, see- 
ing the horse, stopped him abruptly. 6C Where did 



228 



LETTERS 



you get that horse ?" said he. Nicholas was prepared. 
" I found it, just now/' answered he, without the 
slightest embarrassment. " It is the Duke's horse," 
replied the archer, " and was given to Fyot" 

The attorney rapidly perceived his situation. 
" Is not Fyot," said he, " the hunchback of the rue 
de Namur?" " Exactly; the Duke had sent him 
on a message." " Some misfortune must have 
happened to him," replied Nicholas ; " the man is 
given to drinking. He must have left his horse at 
the door of some ale-house, and the poor animal was 
returning alone to the town. I even fancied I saw, 
just by here, Fyot drunk, sitting astride a wall, 
which he was spurring as hard as he could, doubt- 
less believing himself on the back of his beast." — 
" It may be so," replied James; " but 1 must obey 
my orders, and you must give me back the horse." — • 
" It is but just," said the attorney, who returned on 
foot to Brussels. Unfortunately the archer, having 
no suspicion, did not search him, or he would have 
found the proofs of his crime. 

When he had arrived, with his two horses, at the 
ditch where the hunchback lay, James perceived 
him : he got down, thinking him drunk, fastened 



FROM BRUSSELS. 229 

him on his horse, and took him to Termond, leaving 
him with a surgeon, who declared that he was dead. 
James, terrified, searched the hunchback, and found 
that he had been robbed ; upon which, not knowing- 
how to execute the commission which the Duke had 
given him, he remounted his horse, and returned 
the same evening to Brussels, to relate the fatal ad- 
venture to the Prince. 

The news of the death quickly spread ; the attor- 
ney was searched, but nothing could be discovered. 
A thousand conjectures were made, and the public, 
less circumspect than the judges, openly accused 
the attorney. The three sons of Fyot, in grief and 
despair, did not doubt that Nicholas was the crimi- 
nal. They knew their father never got drunk. The 
following day, they presented themselves before 
Philip, in deep mourning, demanding justice and 
revenge. The Duke having told them that no proof 
could be brought forward against the supposed as- 
sassin, they demanded, according to the custom of 
the country, the trial by combat, and all three cast 
down their gloves. Philip could not refuse them 
this privilege ; but as they were clowns, they could 
not be permitted to fight with swords. The attor- 



230 LETTERS 

ney was sent for, who, vigorous and robust, boldly 
accepted the challenge, declaring that he trusted 
to the justice of Heaven, whilst, in fact, he was 
reckoning on his own strength, and on the weakness 
of his antagonists* 

It was decreed that the sons of Fyot should fight 
one after the other, beginning with the eldest, and 
ending with the youngest. The combat was to take 
place the next day. In the meanwhile, the accusers 
and the accused were put into separate prisons, each 
guarded by two archers, and accompanied by a 
fencer, to teach them to handle the staff. The lists 
were prepared in the Petit Sablon, which was fixed 
on for the field of battle. At nine o'clock in the 
morning, they were conducted to the square. They 
were covered with smooth black leather, tightly 
fitting the body ; each had an osier shield, three feet 
long, and a staff of hazel of the same length, with 
a gauntlet on the wrist. Their nails were cut; 
their feet naked; their heads bare, and shaven. 
The people of Brussels, interested for the sons of 
Fyot, ran to this spectacle, pitying their grief, and 
praying for their success. At the mass, celebrated 
in the church of Notre Dame de la Victoire, in- 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



281 



yoking David, the conqueror of Goliah, many 
voices were joined in prayer. 

Lawrence Fyot, the eldest, entered the lists, with 
his buckler and staff. He made the sign of the 
cross, and swore on the Gospel that his quarrel was 
lawful. The attorney came from the opposite side, 
armed in like manner, and went through the same 
ceremonies. They rubbed ashes over their hands, 
to give them a firmer hold. The Duke would not 
allow the staffs to be pointed. The sheriff forbade, 
under severe penalties, any cry or sign to be given 
in favour of either of the combatants ; after which ? 
he threw the glove of Lawrence Fyot on the square*, 
saying, " Do your duty." The two champions 
rushed on each other ; one burning to revenge his 
father, the other defending his life. After a quar- 
ter of an hour of violent blows, both given and 
received, Lawrence fell senseless. He was carried 
off the ground on a litter, as vanquished, and the 
spectators redoubled their mental prayers. 

Paul Fyot succeeded his brother ; he received so 
severe a blow on the arm, that he was instantly 
disabled. 

Gery alone remained, the youngest, and the most 



232 LETTERS 

resolute; but success seemed to have given fresh 
strength to the attorney. The struggle lasted for 
some time ; the staffs fell from their hands ; the two 
champions seized each other round the body, but at 
last, Nicholas was a third time conqueror. 

In the midst of the general consternation, the ex- 
ecutioner, accompanied by his assistants, erected 
three gibbets; for in these combats the conquered 
(reputed guilty) must die, without hopes of obtain- 
ing sepulture ; on the contrary, with the dreadful 
certainty that, after being hanged, he would be 
dragged on a hurdle through the streets of the 
town. 

The Duke, who had been present at this combat, 
was grieved that he could not save them ; but the 
right of combat in many towns was a privilege 
which the sovereign could not infringe, without the 
consent of the people. Whilst he was recalling to 
his memory many facts, still more fatal, produced 
by this barbarous custom, and expressing to the 
noblemen around him his ardent desire that such 
practices might be replaced by equitable laws, the 
attorney triumphed. The executioner had finished 
his preparations, and the three sons of Fyot were 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



233 



on the point of being hanged, when the hunchback, 
supposed dead, suddenly appeared on horseback, 
accompanied by the surgeon of Termond. 

The spectators uttered loud cries; the attorney 
turned deadly pale. The hunchback threw himself 
at the feet of Philip the Good, and related his ad- 
venture, and return to life, produced by copious 
bleeding. A button, which he had snatched from 
his enemy, confirmed the account; the guilt was 
clearly proved, and the attorney was hung. The 
hunchback was carried in triumph to his house, with 
his three brave sons, who were happily cured in a 
few days. 

On New-year's-day, an application was presented 
to Philip, signed by all the principal inhabitants of 
the city, for the suppression of the trial by combat ; 
good laws being the best New-year's gift that can 
be presented to princes or subjects, 



234 



LETTERS 



XXL 

Among the entrances to Brussels called gates, some 
are formed of irou railings, each rail having a gilt 
head, in the shape of an arrow — by no means a bad 
method of keeping out intruders; their light con- 
struction gives no footing, and the sharp spike at 
the top is any thing but an alluring resting-place. 
City gates give an idea of some massive defence ; 
these provide the defence, without appearing to do 
so, and far more resemble the entrance to a gar- 
den. The Schaerbeck gate takes the lead, because 
the royal road from the King's palace in the town 
to that in the country lies through this gate, and 
his Majesty daily passes. 

It was on the 24th of October, in the year 1356 9 
that more than twenty citizens of Brussels felt 
much disappointment, on arriving one evening at 
the Hotel of the Grand Mirror, in the rue de la 
Montagne (kept at that time by Andrew Wyns)j 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



235 



to find all the doors shut, and not a light in any of 
the windows. This gave rise to many suppositions. 
Andrew Wyns, foster brother, and formerly a ser- 
vant of the brave knight, Everard T'Serclaes, owed 
his establishment to this noble lord. They knew, 
that since the capture of Brussels by the Flemings, 
Andrew was at Maestricht with Everard ; Mae- 
stricht was then the refuge of the deposed Duke of 
Brabant. 

But what had become of the joyous Gery, 
Andrews's brother, who kept house in his absence? 
he had also disappeared, and the dwelling seemed 
abandoned. The house of Andrew Wyns was the 
most frequented in the town; his cooks and scul- 
lions were never at rest ; and all prospered under 
his hands. This sudden shutting up, therefore, 
could not be attributed to bad luck. 

A fish-monger from the rue au Buerre arrived, 
and said, " I would wager a cask of herrings, that 
our friend Gery Wyns is gone to be married, 
He has been long thinking about it." 

" Impossible," said a neighbour brewer; " it is 
not when the enemy is in Brussels, and the city in 
a ferment, that this brave boy will take his 
pleasure," 



286 LETTERS 

iC Why, thump yourselves/' said a blacksmith, 
" whether Louis de Maele, or any other rule over 
us, shall we not always be between the anvil and 
the hammer ? It is the fate of citizens. Besides, 
Wenceslaus, Duke of Luxembourgh by birth, is 
only Duke of Brabant by his marriage with the 
eldest daughter of our late king, John the Third." 

" That is no reason," said a young archer, " that 
Louis de Maele, Count of Flanders, after having 
taken from us Malines, should make good his pre- 
tended right over Brabant, and rule at Brussels. " 

" But," replied the smith, " Do not blow so 
hard. Louis de Mael, married a sister of our 
Duchess Jane." 

" No matter," cried the archer, " Jane is the 
eldest ; Brabant belongs to her, and her husband 
Wenceslaus." 

" Whatever it be," said the fishmonger, " we 
are in the net, and since the 1 7th of last August, the 
Count of Flanders has been fishing here in troubled 
water. He has profited by the absence of Wen- 
ceslaus, gone to Maestricht, to pay his duty to the 
Emperor; we have been caught, as it were by 
torch light; and had it not been for the valiant 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



237 



Everard T'Serclaes, the Duchess Jane could not 
even have joined her husband. I think, our 
worthy Andrew Wyns is plotting something with 
them." 

" I have been confidentially told," said another, 
^ that Gery has sent a message to his brother; 
that is the reason, perhaps, of his absence. But it 
is very cold, let us go to the Bear." 

To the Bear, therefore, they went, discussed the 
subject with more tranquillity; but when returning 
home, the night dark and rainy, they heard great 
shouts from the gate of Cologne, now called the 
gate of Schaerbeck; they ran there, and beheld 
by the light of torches, the intrepid Everard 
T'Serclaes scaling it on the outside, supported by 
only sixty-six resolute men, whilst his brother 
John, at the head of a troop of scullions, which 
Gery Wyns had collected, surprised and dislodged 
the enemy on the inside of the gate. The two 
heroes cried in a thundering voice, Brabant for the 
Grand Duke ! The gates were opened to Wen- 
ceslaus ; the tocsin was sounded, the Flemings lost 
their senses. The citizens of Brussels ran on all 
sides ; they embraced Everard as their deliverer ; 



238 LETTERS 

they caressed Andrew Gery and the valiant scul- 
lions. 

Everard ran to the Grande Place, tore down the 
standard of Flanders, and replaced it by the banner 
of Brabant. In an hour's time the town was evacu- 
ated. Wenceslaus re-entered Brussels, and ordered 
that the steep and unfrequented street which led 
to the gate of Schaerbeck, should be henceforth 
called Rue d'Assaut; and in remembrance of the 
defeat of the Flemings, by the scullions of Brussels, 
he placed over the Flander's gate, two scullions 
armed with spits, with which they were expelling 
grotesque figures dressed as Flemings. This 
memorial of bravery and cowardice, or to do both 
parties equal justice, of the effects of panic, was 
destroyed in 1784. 

The Schaerbeck gate is situated at the end of 
rue Royale Neuve, and leads to the village of 
Schaerbeck, the Botanical Garden, the Allee 
Verte, and the village of Laecken. 

The village of Schaerbeck is famous for its asses, 
and for good vegetables. Laecken derives im- 
portance from being the summer residence of the 
King. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 239 

The Allee Verte is a favourite walk and drive ; 
four rows of old linden trees, by the side of the 
canal, form a walk on each side, and in the centre 
a drive ; free from the noise of pavement, so detri- 
mental to carriage wheels, horses' feet, and our own 
ease, we may amuse ourselves with looking at the 
passing vehicles, the assembled promenaders, some- 
times the barge returning from Antwerp, the de- 
parture of the steam-coach for Malines, and occa- 
sionally, cast a thankful glance upwards to the 
branches and green leaves of the old trees ; but to 
our surprise and sorrow, we perceive them sus- 
pended over us, like fragments of lace ; the tribes 
of caterpillars, emulous of their rival workmen in 
the rue des Parchements, complete their manufac- 
ture so speedily, that in six weeks, verdure has 
given place to the well cleared filaments. 

During the time of the festivals, celebrated at 
Brussels in honour of Napoleon and Maria Louisa, 
the Allee Verte was the scene of a review, ever 
the attendant on Napoleon's fetes. 

We may also mention, that these fine old trees 
were spared by Marshal Saxe, at the entreaty of 
the ladies of the town, which he besieged; and 



240 



LETTERS 



that on the 2d of July 1803, Napoleon on a white 
horse, passed through the Allee Verte, which was 
illuminated with a magnificence that has never 
been equalled. But to return to the review. 
Amongst several of the anecdotes relating to it, the 
following deserves to be remembered: — Whilst 
looking at the soldiers, the Emperor remarked an 
old Serjeant-major. His eyes were large and 
severe, shining like flambeaux on a face bronzed 
by twenty campaigns. An enormous beard cover- 
ing the half of his figure, rendered him still more 
formidable. The Emperor called him from the 
ranks. 

The heart of the brave old man, so firm, so 
intrepid, was touched. A bright blush spread over 
such of his features as could be seen, for he was 
modest. 

"I have seen you," said the Emperor,- — " your 
name ?7 

" Noel, Sire," replied he, in an altered voice. 

"Your country?" 

" Born in Belgium." 

" Were you not in Italy ? " 

" Yes, Sire, a drummer at the bridge of Areola." 



FROM BRUSSELS. 241 

" And you were made a Serjeant-major?" 
" At Marengo, Sire. " 
" But since then ? " 

" I have taken a part in every great battle. " 

The Emperor made a sign. The Sergeant re- 
turned to the ranks, and for two minutes Napoleon 
spoke to the Colonel. Some glances at Noels 
shew T ed that the Emperor was thinking of him. In 
fact, he was one of those soldiers that the Emperor 
loved; valiant and calm, slave to duty and discipline, 
faithful and devoted. He had distinguished him- 
self in every engagement ; his modesty not allowing 
him to solicit promotion, he had been always for- 
gotten. The Emperor called him again. 

fifi You have deserved the cross," said he, giving 
him his own; " you are a brave man." 

The soldier at this moment stood between his 
Colonel and his Emperor, He could not utter a 
word ; but his large eyes worshipped the man who 
knew so well how to reward merit. 

Why was this Emperor so loved ? Because this 
man, who was called the first man of his age — who 
for a moment was the master of that age, was a 
truly great prince. He charmed every eye; he 

M 



242 



LETTERS 



overawed the multitude ; his step was more than 
human. It was, because his faults, his errors, his 
abuses, his invasions, his crimes, his despotism, and 
his tyranny, were lost in his splendour. He paid 
with glory, which he lavished open-handed, that 
liberty which he destroyed every day. 

At a gesture from the Emperor, the drums beat ; 
silence was commanded ; and the Colonel, present- 
ing to the army the new Chevalier of the Legion of 
Honour, who trembled with transport whilst placing 
the cross on his breast, said, with a loud voice — 

(i In the name of the Emperor ! acknowledge 
Serjeant-major Noels as Ensign in your regi- 
ment." 

The whole line presented arms. 

Noels, whose heart was moved, heard these words 
like a dream ; he wished to fall on his knees ; but 
the immoveable figure of the Emperor, who then 
appeared doing justice more than giving a favour, 
restrained him. 

Without appearing to see his intention — without 
noticing the feelings which agitated the brave man, 
Napoleon made a second sign ; the drums beat 
again ; the Colonel said again, with a loud voice— 



FROM BRUSSELS. 243 

€C In the name of the Emperor ! acknowledge 
Ensign Noels as Lieutenant in your regiment." 

This second stroke was almost too much for the 
Belgian : his knees scarcely supported him ; his 
eyes, which for twenty years had never shed a tear, 
were now filled ; he staggered ; his lips in vain en« 
deavoured to express a sound ; his senses were fast 
going, when a third roll of the drums completely 
dispersed them, and the Colonel said — 

" In the name of the Emperor ! acknowledge 
Lieutenant Noels as Captain in your regiment." 

After this promotion, with that tranquillity, su- 
perior to all passion, which gave him so much 
majesty, the Emperor gravely continued the review. 

But poor Noels, his eyes filled with tears, had 
fainted in the arms of his Colonel, endeavouring, 
w r ith a stifled voice, to give the sacred cry of " Vive 
FEmpereur." 



244 



LETTERS 



XXII. 



W e went one evening, by way of experiment, on 
the rail-road to Malines. It had not been long 
opened, and many were anxious to have their turn 
of trying what it was like. Three kinds of con- 
veyance were propelled by the powerful, almost 
animated machine : the diligence ; the chars-a-banc, 
open at the sides, but covered at the top ; and the 
wagons without any roof. The chars-a-banc is 
the pleasantest, affording a complete view of the 
country, and shelter from rain ; each char is divided 
into three parts ; each part holds two benches, of 
four seats ; so that a party of eight may make an 
excursion without any unwelcome addition to their 
society, and be as exclusive as their dignity may 
choose. 

The seats are numbered ; and the ticket, procured 
at the bureau, for which you pay one franc, bears 
the same number; but unless the precaution is 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



245 



saken of securing the same places back again, you 
have a chance of remaining at Malines, and may 
not have provided yourself with money to meet 
such an emergency. In this case, do not despair, 
do not believe the assertion that there is not one 
place to be had ; but go with the crowd, and most 
likely some speculator will offer to sell you tickets 
at double their value. 

The distance from Malines is twelve miles, ac- 
complished in about half an hour, greatly facilitat- 
ing the communication with Antwerp, to which 
city you proceed by a diligence. Three times a 
day does the steam-coach and its train run to and 
from Malines. This country is admirably adapted 
to rail-roads, and at present it is a novelty. Papas 
and mammas bring dozens of children ; gallant city 
youths treat sisters and friends ; and when once set 
in motion, their various degrees of delight find vent 
in words : — " Oh, look at the wheels — oh, how fast 
the ground runs — how quiet we are — suppose it 
should break down — suppose some accident should 
happen— suppose we were to fall out !" and at 
these little suppositions of danger, just enough to 
enhance the pleasure, they huddle closer together, 



246 



LETTERS 



laugh, chatter, and laugh again, until the wheels 
stop, and the formidable machine in front pants and 
puffs so true to nature, as if worn out with exertion, 
that it is difficult to believe it not alive. 

The Antwerp gate is the handsomest entrance, in 
point of architecture. Three arches, joined toge- 
ther, form a triumphal arch, formerly ornamented 
with bas-reliefs and inscriptions, in honour of the 
royal family then reigning, now obliterated, or 
covered over, undergoing the usual fate of honours 
decreed by a populace—of all honours the most 
fleeting, the most worthless ; one day received with 
acclamations, the next with hisses ; obliged to bow, 
and smile, and thank for those applauses which a 
man of true feeling will despise for their fickleness. 
The principal archway is adorned by two statues, 
representing the rivers Senne and Dyle, bearing 
the emblems of navigation and commerce. 

Two Corinthian columns form the front, support- 
ing figures of Peace and Plenty. This style of 
gate is appropriate ; for by proceeding from it, to- 
wards the quays on the left, numbers of broad 
barges and piles of timber prove trade is going on. 
You must pass through this gate, and turn to the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 247 

left, to purchase a ticket for the steam convey- 
ance. 

The gate of Hal is remarkable, not for beauty, but 
for want of beauty. An immense square building, 
apparently neither for ornament, use nor taste, which 
you look at, and long to know why it stands there. 
It was once conceived a fitting repository for the 
archives of the town ; and after being roofed with 
copper, and rendered as strong as iron and stone 
walls could effect, another and irremediable obstacle 
appeared; the damp created such extensive injury, 
that the papers required instant removal. Amongst 
these archives is a picture, formerly kept in the 
Hotel de Ville: the subject of the painting is an 
infant in a cradle, suspended from a willow. 

The child became afterwards Godfrey the Third, 
and in this situation, had unconsciously animated 
the champions of his cause, when attacked by the 
Lords of Grimberghen and Malines. Helpless 
innocence would win their hearts more, perhaps, 
than the armed chieftain ; it had the powerful 
appeal of dependence, and what can excite affec- 
tion more ? 

The remaining gates of Brussels have no claim 



248 LETTERS 

to be observed or described Some are in ruins? 
some are to be good when completed; till then, 
they must be contented to perform their duty of 
shutting out enemies, and not expect visitors will 
walk to flatter their vanity. But whilst we men- 
tion the gates that do exist in Brussels, we must 
not forget to name one, revered in olden times, but 
no longer standing. It is a great pity people will 
not keep any medium in their opinions, and their 
beliefs. In former times every thing was believed ; 
in these times nothing is believed. Not one of 
our forefathers doubted the existence of giants, 
which are now looked upon as a creation of the 
brain. But, however, giants these were, and very 
big giants ; and the one of which we are now to 
speak lived in Brussels. 

There was in 860 a kind of small castle, built of 
wood, which occupied the exact spot where the 
ancient inhabitants beheld the gate called Steen- 
poort, or Stonegate. This castle was occupied by 
a giant, whose real name was not known, but who 
was called L'Ommeganck, signifying, Protector of 
Highways. He was not more than nine feet high. 

His dwelling built on a hill, eighty feet higher 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



249 



than the neighbouring ground, was then unap- 
proachable ; the hill was steep on all sides, and cut 
with a pick-axe ; the giant alone could ascend it 
by means of a rough staircase, turned towards 
the street, still called Montagne-du-Geant. 

He lived there, happy and respected. It is said 
that he was whimsical, uncivilized, never saying a 
word, and abrupt in his manners; but he only 
employed his strength in redressing wrongs, pur- 
suing thieves, defending merchants, and purging 
the country of the robbers who infested the high- 
ways. This giant had no wife, but he had a 
daughter far from being like himself ; for she was 
little, lovely and fascinating. In all his excursions 
he kept her a close prisoner, and she had never 
descended into the valley. 

Hans de Huysteen, a valiant knight, who had 
covered himself with glory against the Normans, 
had lately returned to Brussels. He was thirty 
years old, and succeeded his father, who had em- 
ployed numerous workmen in his copper mines, in 
the forest of Soignies. One day, the giant leaving 
his daughter Helena alone, the young beauty put 
her head out of a little window which looked over 

m 3 



250 



LETTERS 



Brussels. Huysteen was passing at the foot of the 
mountain, he perceived the lovely girl, and was 
instantly captivated. Unable to subdue his feelings 
he ascended the steps; but just as he was entering 
the castle, the giant appeared ; his daughter ran to 
meet him, beautiful with blushes, after which she 
saluted the stranger. The giant scowled; "what 
has rendered you rash enough to set foot in this 
dwelling? " said he. " Forgive me/' replied Huy- 
steen, " I saw your daughter, and love led me to 
her feet." 

Helena trembled, — love, for the first time had 
also entered her heart. 

" Who are you? " said the giant. 

" Hans of Huysteen, and knighted by Lothaire." 

u You are not unworthy of us,' 9 replied the 
giant with a smile which announced some whim ; 
" but I have made a vow. You shall never have 
my daughter, unless you can by to-morrow at day- 
break, fetch her on horseback, entering through a 
stone portico ; and then conduct her to the church 
of St. Gery." Saying this, the giant went in, shut 
the door, and left the poor young man on the 
summit of the hilL Helena could only give him 



FROM BRUSSELS. 251 

one tender look of encouragement. When lie 
approached the steps, and saw the task prescribed ; 
when he thought of it ; when he reflected that one 
night alone was allowed for such an enterprise ; 
when he had calculated the eighty feet of scarp 
work over which he was to carry a road, and bring 
up stones to build a portico, he perceived that the 
giant had been laughing at him. 

However,' love believes it can surmount every 
obstacle. Hans hastened to his mines, where his 
six hundred workmen laboured. He called the 
master men, and demanded if it were possible, in 
one night, to construct a road which should lead 
from Brussels to the giant's hill. They replied, 
that it would take more tjian a year. 

Hans turned away with a sigh ; and as he was 
wandering pensively, in the dark galleries, he 
beheld a little man, about four feet high, who 
looked at him with a fixed and ardent gaze. " You 
are in despair/' said he, " if you like I will relieve 
you from trouble." 

" I will do anything in the world," said the 
knight ; " but who are you ?" 

" Your people," replied the little man, « call 



252 LETTERS 

me the Elfin. But I, and mine, whatever we may 
be, inhabit these subterraneous dwellings, which 
vou have just disturbed. If you will swear to 
close this mine, and leave us in peace, we will 
make your road to night ; we will erect the stone 
gate, and to-morrow at day-break, Helena shall be 
yours. Not to injure your fortune, I w r ill shew 
you another mine; and I will give you the secret 
of tinning over copper." The knight promised 
every thing. In the mean while the giant, seeing 
night come on, began to talk to his daughter. He 
laughed at the expense of the Lord of Huysteen ; 
but Helena sighed. 

About midnight there was a great tempest ; the 
wind shook the castle; the trees were uprooted; 
and distant thunder pealed incessantly. Helena 
was afraid ; the giant opened the window, the night 
was so dark he could see nothing, but he heard 
the noise of hammers, the blows of pick-axes, the 
wheeling of barrows, and the confused voices of 
ten thousand workmen. He burst out a laughing 
again ; the man is mad, said he ; he has commenced 
the road. 

He shut the window, for the lamp w 7 as blown out. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



253 



Helena could not sleep, and at the first dawn of day 
ran to the window. What was her surprise and 
joy at beholding a magnificent stone gate (the actual 
Steenpoort) : she gave so loud a cry, that the giant 
ran to her. At this moment Hans appeared on 
horseback under the porch, leading a palfrey for 
Helena. All that the giant required had been 
done ; he embraced the knight, who on that same 
day married Helena, and faithfully kept his word 
with the little man of the mines. 



254 



LETTERS 



XXIIL 

The entrance to the church of Saint James Canderi- 
burg, is by a flight of stone steps ; on the top of 
which rests a beautiful portico, formed by six Co- 
rinthian columns; and against the walls, on each 
side of the door, are two statues. On the right, the 
Royal Psalmist, with one hand resting on his harp, 
and the other raised towards that Heaven by which 
he was inspired ; and on the left Moses. 

There are also several bas-reliefs. 

The interior of this chapel is beautiful. Walls, 
pilasters, roof, and statues, are all white, gilding 
forming the only variation of colour : it is chastely 
elegant, and in perfect taste. 

The statues of the old and new law stand on each 
side of the high altar, and at the foot of the chan- 
cel two others represent St. Peter and Religion. 
The chancel is terminated by a semicircular colon- 
nade of the Corinthian order. Two chapels are in 



FROM BRUSSELS. 255 

this church — one dedicated to the Virgin, contain- 
ing an image brought there by the citizens of Bois- 
le-Duc, when that place was taken by the Dutch; 
the other chapel contains a monument to the painter 
Jacobs. 



The church of Notre-Dame des Victoire, fronts 
the Petit Sablon. A monument in the chapel of 
St. Ursula, sacred to the memory of the Princes of 
Tour and Taxis, claims admiration. The composi- 
tion is of black and white marble, representing 
Virtue, whom Time is endeavouring to lead away 
by a golden chain ; but she loosens the links, and 
still remains on earth. A statue of St. Ursula is 
placed on the altar. The paintings worthy of notice 
are our Saviour on the Cross, the Last Judgment, 
and the Martyrdom of St. Barbara; many others 
are on the walls. Over the entrance is a boat, con- 
taining the image of the Virgin Mary, who is said 
to have come in that way from Holland. 

All the churches are so filled with paintings, sta- 
tues, and variously-coloured marble pillars, that 



256 



LETTERS 



they must look handsome ; and the general good 
effect prevents a closer examination. 

Notre-Dame de la Chapelle, is the next in size to 
St. Gudule, and contains a greater display of orna- 
ment ; it is divided into three aisles, separated from 
each other by two rows of pillars, which are orna- 
mented with statues of our Saviour, the Virgin 
Mary, and the Twelve Apostles. 

The pulpit, another magnificent piece of wood 
carving, represents Elijah flying from the anger of 
Jezebel, and an angel bringing him food. The 
prophet is seated on a rock; and upon this rock, 
through which steps are cut, two palm-trees raise 
their heads, and support a curtain held by two 
angels. 

The monument of Spinola is pointed out to 
strangers. 



The church of St. Nicholas is quite surrounded by 
houses, so that its architecture must be left to the 
imagination. The paintings are considered good. 
Over the high altar is a representation of our Sa- 
viour restoring health to the child of Canea. The 



FROM BRUSSELS. 257 

chapel of the Virgin has two; one, Joshua combat- 
ing the Amalekites; the other, the repentance of 
David ; and near the altar of the dead, is the Last 
Supper. This church has no tower; twice has it 
fallen down, although when first erected it ranked 
highest for beauty. 

In the sixteenth century, this tower had a grey 
haired inhabitant, who had been left, when an in- 
fant, at the door of the church; had grown old 
under its dark vaults ; had identified himself with 
the edifice which sheltered him; could breathe no 
other air but that of his tower; whose promenade 
was a twisted staircase; whose love was bestowed 
on the bells ; whose care and happiness was cen- 
tred in the earthly parts of the church. How he 
loved to behold it adorned, shining, rubbed, washed 
and purged from every stain! With what joy did 
he proclaim high festivals; with what ardour did 
he long for a chime ; with what disdain did he look 
down from the top of his platform on the other 
employments, dignities, honours and vanities of the 
crowd beneath him ! 

Noel was his name, and he thus led a happy life, 
when the attempts of the reformers disturbed even 



258 , LETTERS 

him. Indifferent to the pretensions of the Spanish, 
or the excesses of the Duke of Albert, the parish 
of St. Nicholas was his nation ; his country was the 
tower. It mattered not to him who governed, pro- 
vided they left in peace the house of the Lord. 
But is peace possible in this world ? 

In the little communication which he had with 
mankind, the old man learnt, with terror and dis- 
tress, that the Reformers devastated churches. At 
first he could not believe it; but afterwards, when 
this crime was realized, he hoped that Brussels at 
least would be exempt from such a profanation. 
He was even glad when the plague raged in Bel- 
gium, and cut off in Brussels alone twenty thousand 
men. He looked upon it as a judgment of the 
Almighty, and rejoiced that the presence of this 
scourge had stayed for a while these religious com- 
motions; but the fury of the horrible epidemic 
ceased, and the Reformers again took courage. 

One sad morning, the unhappy bell-ringer felt 
his hair stand on end, when awoke by threatening 
howls, he perceived his church surrounded by mad- 
men, determined to sack it. After a moment of in- 
superable horror, he recovered his presence of mind, 



FROM BRUSSELS. 259 

hastily descended, and ran to warn of the danger 
an old priest, the keeper of the temple ; and whilst 
the holy man was hastening to secrete the conse- 
crated vessels, Noel again ran up to his tower, not 
knowing what to do, perfectly beside himself, but 
still resolved to defend the Lord's house by his own 
strength. But he had neither arms, stones, nor 
any other missile to hurl on the profaners; he 
looked, he searched on all sides ; he breathed war ; 
he could only lay hands on a bag of nuts, the usual 
nourishment of his solitude. 

These he seized with zeal, and threw with all his 
strength on the besiegers, then wholly occupied in 
forcing the doors. 

This innocent artillery had an unexpected effect ; 
it much amused the very people whom he wished 
to irritate ; it saved him, for they could not help 
laughing at his formidable discharge ; and it gave 
the old priest time to carry off the host from the 
tabernacle ; for all these pillagers set to work and 
picked up the nuts, influenced by that careful spirit 
which will never lose any thing* 

Five minutes afterwards the doors of the church 
were broken ; impious clamours, long and horrible 



260 LETTERS 

blasphemies, resounded on every side ; images and 
pictures were thrown down ; relics were cast out of 
their shrines ; altars, stalls, every object of worship 
was shattered ; in one hour the beautiful church was 
a hideous wreck. 

The old priest had taken shelter in the tower near 
Noel ; from thence they beheld the sacrilege, and 
could only tremble. 

All the other churches in Brussels shared the 
same fate. The priest soon died of grief. The old 
bell-ringer sunk under sorrow and ennui ; he never 
saw again another sabbath ; but his spirit must 
have been a little comforted, for when the church 
was restored, one of his dearest wishes was accom- 
plished — a superb carillon was placed in the tower; 
and in memory of the singular defence of the old 
man, the inhabitants of the parish created a fund, 
by virtue of which, every year, on the first of 
October (the day of the purification of the church), 
after the celebration of high mass, the chief bell- 
ringer ascended to the top of the tower, and threw 
several sacks of nuts amongst the crowd. 

Although this tower has not been rebuilt since its 
second fall, the custom of throwing nuts from the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 261 

modest steeple which replaced it, was continued 
until the year 1760, when a distribution of money 
amongst the poor was substituted. 

Another version of the story of throwing nuts 
from the steeple of St. Nicholas is, that it existed 
anterior to the birth of old Noel ; they say that 
when the church was built, an old nut-tree, occu- 
pying the site of the tower, was removed ; and not 
wishing to deprive the people of the profits of their 
tree, the nuts were given instead ; no doubt scram- 
bling for them was a good equivalent for the 
pleasure of picking them. 



262 



LETTERS 



XXIV. 

Besides the Ailee Verte, the Boulevards are plea- 
sant walks and drives. 

The Waterloo Boulevard, from the Hal gate to 
the Namur gate. 

The Regent's Boulevard, from the Namur gate 
to the Louvain gate. 

The Observatory Boulevard, from the Louvain 
gate to the Shaerbeck gate. 

The Boulevard of the Botanical Garden. 

The Antwerp Boulevard, from the end of the 
Botanical Garden to the beginning of the Allee 
Verte. 

On these Boulevards and in the Park, on Sun- 
days and saints' days, tribes of gaily-dressed people 
amuse themselves; and when tired with walking, 
the middling classes rest in the nearest estaminet. 
The estaminets are superior kinds of public-houses, 
at all events, they look superior ; perhaps this arises 



FROM BRUSSELS. 263 

from being* frequented by both men and women ; 
the women refreshing themselves with coffee, and 
the men who accompany them, and very likely pay 
for the treat, are restrained by their presence from 
indulging in their draughts of beer until such 
indulgence becomes excess ; thus both parties enjoy 
the evening, and when rested resume their walk. 

At whatever time of the day you go out, and 
particularly in the morning, you will encounter a 
recurring temptation to spend a halfpenny; and, 
according to your existing mood, you will be 
pleased or plagued. The temptation comes in the 
shape of a small bunch of flowers; sometimes 
violets, sometimes lilies of the valley, sometimes 
roses. Dozens of little boys and girls, with round 
baskets of these bouquets, haunt every place of 
much resort. They will run by your side with the 
unceasing petition of " Two cents. Monsieur," 
thrusting their flowers almost into your face; and 
the smiling monkeys have the impertinence to call 
your gallantry into question, by telling you, as a 
last resource, to buy one for Madame. If you are 
in a good temper, you will buy one for their sakes : 
and if in a bad temper, it is still the wisest plan, 



264 LETTERS 

as by possessing one, you will not be pestered by 
a hundred others; and when, encountering some 
inexpressible odour, you have recourse to your 
violets, you will agree that the two cents have not 
been ill spent. 

The dress of the common men is a blue smock- 
frock over their other clothes, and the women wear 
caps instead of bonnets; some, without borders, 
and having wide flaps, are very becoming; but the 
prevailing shape is not at all so. The middle class 
are gay in their shawls and bonnets, artificial 
flowers in abundance, and silks of every colour. 

In summer the estaminets provide tables and 
chairs, under the shade of trees; many lively- 
looking groups occupy these, and often a few 
musicians add greatly to the scene. These little 
Munions certainly tend to polish national manners; 
all mutually do their besfc to appear pleasing ; put 
a check upon themselves, at least 'for a little 
while, and this little while frequently recurring, 
becomes at last habitual, and insensibly creates 
that good breeding for which foreigners are justly 
praised. 

What a difference there is, by the bye, between 



FROM BRUSSELS. 265 

a vulgar person and an ill-bred person. Vulgarity- 
lies in the manners, ill-breeding in the heart; a 
downright vulgar woman, if kind-hearted, will never 
be ill-bred, and a very fine lady may be very much 
so. Can you not believe this ? Try both, and you 
will acknowledge it is far pleasanter to come in con- 
tact with the one, whose vulgarity is softened by 
goodness of heart shining through it, than submit 
to the airs of the other, who has forgotten that the 
most powerful feminine charm is that amiable good- 
breeding which sets every one at ease, and endea- 
vours to promote the happiness of all around her. 
We can forgive vulgarity in the one, but we can- 
not forgive want of heart in the other. 

This method of enjoying themselves out of doors 
gives a greater look of making holiday than the 
quieter plan of drinking tea at each other's houses. 
When tea takes place at home, among the poorer 
classes, they cannot afford to provide beer also; and 
although some of the men might be disposed to par- 
take with their wives, others will find it stupid, and 
having recourse to the public-house, spend more 
than they possess ; whereas, when they go together 
to an estaminet, the wife's coffee must be paid for, 

s> N 



266 



LETTERS 



as well as the man's beer, who then feels he has not 
enough to do both, unless moderation be exercised. 
Besides the more pleasing appearance of this equally 
shared gratification, which must have the best effect 
on the disposition of the man, consequently on the 
happiness of both parties. The intoxicating fumes, 
the immoral discourse, the violent language, and 
the brutalizing effects of the beer (all evils insepar- 
able from an ale-house), or the gay promenade, the 
lively good-humoured chatter, the pure air, the shady 
trees, the music, and finally, the couple of glasses of 
beer, which, instead of exciting moroseness and ill- 
temper, make him even more alive to the pleasures 
of the evening. 

The people here are very free from drunkenness, 
and may we not be allowed to attribute it greatly 
to this amiable participation of amusement. The 
men appear fond of playing at quoits, and the chil- 
dren of the skipping-rope. Another recreation, in 
great repute at all fairs and festivals, is a circular 
swing, from which wooden horses are suspended, 
and small seats, like children's carriages, for the 
more timid. The proprietor of this machine sets it 
in motion; round it goes, tempting all the little 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



267 



ragged, bare-headed boys and girls to purchase a 
ride. For a long while they stand uncertain, look- 
ing at their copper coins, and visions of cherries, 
gingerbread, salt fish, and the swing, battling which 
shall float uppermost in their poor little brains ; at 
last swing gets the victory ; they pay their money, 
and are perched upon a horse, or grandly seated in 
a carriage ; one leads on another, and the number 
of seats are filled, to the great joy of the owner, 
whose heart is still more gladdened by others stand- 
ing round, envious of the happy equestrians, and 
ready for the next turn. 

Round it turns, faster and faster; all enchanted, 
all smiling; till at last one urchin, in the exuber- 
ance of spirits, wishing to fill with awe and surprise 
the weaker minds around him, fancies he can ride 
without holding, and taking off his hands from their 
support, looks round triumphant. " A'n't I won- 
derful?" legibly written on his countenance; one 
turn, two turns, he has managed to keep his balance, 
but the third down he comes ; nose, hands, knees 
scratched and smarting; a yell commences; but 
vanity gets the better of pain, and he jumps up, 
declaring to his playfellows, in spite of his blubber- 



268 



LETTERS 



ing countenance, Oh ! it was nothing ; he did it 
on purpose, he jumped off on purpose. So far so 
good ; his vanity saved the pocket of the swing- 
owner, by reassuring the beating hearts of the 
by-standers, who began to think a ride might be a 
very pleasant thing, but that cherries, without falls 
and scratches, would be better. 

Round the swing goes again, five or six turns, 
when, alas ! a very young performer begins to get 
giddy, and not understanding the sensation, roars 
most lustily ; in vain the man pretends not to hear, 
each turn increases the uproar ; the swing must be 
stopped ; but still he tries what soothing will do ; 
he coaxes, wipes the eyes, smoothes the clothes, 
(not for love of the child remember, but for fear of 
his pocket suffering), does all he can to pacify: not 
a bit of it ! there is no vanity this time to help him 
out ; the monkey screams louder than before, and 
as is often the case with children, one crying sets 
off another ; the poor man loses all patience, and 
drives it off the ground with a cuff on the head; 
the rest scream to get out ; the lookers-on, after 
these two scenes, wont take their places, and all 
rush to the gingerbread stalls ; those who did not 



FROM BRUSSELS. 269 

ride, to enjoy the happiness of filling their mouths, 
and those whose money is gone, to eat with their 
eyes what the others eat with the mouth. 

What else can I mention likely to win a 
moment's notice in your walk ? Perhaps you will 
observe, by the windows of many houses, small 
looking-glasses, fastened on the outside with iron. 
These are for the more secluded, more refined 
ladies, to see all that passes, without being seen, 
thereby obviating any inclination to that unseemly 
propensity of thrusting the head out of a window 
in the street, while the charitable employment of 
criticising the dress, looks, walk, and manners of 
their acquaintances, may still be carried on. 

Another object you will like, are the carts drawn 
by dogs. These noble animals are placed three 
abreast, and pull a heavy load, working with all 
their heart, tongue hanging out, and panting for 
breath; giving all they have— their whole strength 5 
to their master's service ; and when the labour is 
accomplished, their attitude of repose is equally 
beautiful; no guard can be more faithful, more 
vigilant, and it would require greater courage than 
a pilferer ever possesses, to come near a cart to 



270 



LETTERS 



which these dogs are chained, for any purpose of 
theft; they are beautiful in body as well as mind, 
and it is a difficult matter to resist becoming a 
master of one of these excellent fellows. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



271 



XXV. 



Waterloo! spirit-stirring name ! who would leave 
Brussels without going to the field of Waterloo ? 
If you love your country, you will go from national 
pride; if any one belonging to you fought there, 
you will go for the sake of glory, because his fame 
pleasingly reflects also on you ; if, alas ! a friend 
fell on that memorable day, glorious as was his 
death, your bereavement is the same, and you will 
go to embalm his memory with a tear of affection. 
Strange that we should seek what we know will 
give us pain; but the tenderness of grief is soothing 
to a heart that silently, yet constantly, mourns. 

True, in our first agony, daily objects that 
strikingly recall the dead are more than we can 
bear ; yet when time has softened the blow, when 
despair yields to tender regret, we attach a value 
to all that was theirs ; we mention their names with 
sacred love ; and every recollection, powerful in its 



272 



LETTERS 



gentleness, is a dream from which we would not be 
roused, a treasure with which we would not part ; 
almost jealous in its exclusiveness, rarely does an- 
other eye behold our tears, rarely does another ear 
listen to our lament ; we like to present the surface 
calm and unruffled, conscious of the depth of feeling 
within; we would preserve undivided our sympathy 
with the departed. 

If none of these inducements lead you to Water- 
loo,- — if old England's glory, pride in the living, or 
sorrow for the dead, are not your motives, still you 
will go, because every one goes ; because you can- 
not stand proof against the repeated questions, on 
your return, " Of course you saw Waterloo?" 
because you cannot encounter the faces of astonish- 
ment at your feebly answered " No." 

The hackney coaches or carriages in Brussels are 
far superior to those in London, both in look and 
cleanliness, and commodious enough to hold six 
with ease. Twenty francs appears the regular 
charge to Waterloo and back, including coachman 
and turnpikes, and allowing you to remain on the 
ground three hours or more ; the coachman, on his 
return, will receive his demand, make a bow, and 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



273 



express his thanks, but cannot resist the oppor- 
tunity of even asking for a little more ; should he 
be happy enough to have discovered a plausible 
excuse, so much the better for his eloquence ; but 
if his brain cannot suggest any earthly reason, still 
his hand is mechanically held out, and his counte- 
nance and voice try to win another franc. 

The Namur gate, with every capability of form- 
ing a handsome entrance (being wide and unen- 
cumbered), consists at present of two wooden huts, 
not calculated to make an imposing impression. 
The ponds of Etterbeck lie on the left, surrounded 
with trees, and covered with green slime, present- 
ing as perfect a situation for ague as stagnant water 
of some extent could be expected to afford. The 
margin of these ponds is said to be a favourite walk 
in summer. Water is an addition to every natural 
beauty of scenery; but let it be the majestic ocean, 
the sparkling stream, or the clear glassy surface of 
the lake; not the green, still, thick fluid contained 
in a pond, filling the atmosphere with poisonous 
air. 

The country is pretty ; gentle slopes, many 
trees, and rich corn fields unite to withdraw your 

n 3 



274 



LETTERS 



attention from the paved roads; and, thanks to 
being in a hired conveyance, the unceasing jolting 
of the hinges of your own limbs need not remind 
you that the springs of your carriage are made of 
less durable material. 

The villages of Ixelles and Vert-Chasseur lie on 
the road. The only objects in these, at all likely 
to attract the eye, are the variously painted signs 
of the numerous public-houses, and the crowds of 
little dirty children, who, at the sight of a carriage*, 
rush from their play, and run by the side begging ; 
some cannot compose their faces sufficiently to look 
pitiful, and as if aware that wretchedness, to be 
relieved, must look wretched, when they cannot 
help laughing, run behind, and indemnify them- 
selves with climbing up to get a bit of a drive. 

However, it is w T ell to be provided with some 
small coin ; many objects, poor, old, blind, and 
lame, claim compassion, and remind us, while we 
bestow a trifling 1 relief on these our fellow-mortals^ 
that our brighter lot might have been the same; 
that it may even yet become so ; and that it is 
better to relieve ten, with the chance of doing 
good to one, than restrain our hand from fear of 



FROM BRUSSELS. "275 

imposture : besides, when we give to the poor, to 
whom do we lend ? The forest of Soignies lies for 
a considerable distance on each side of the road, 
and the shade of its trees is most welcome on the 
18th of June. The forest was sold by the king of 
Holland to the Society for Promoting National 
Industry, who again dispose of it in lots of four 
acres each. The price of each lot, for the land and 
timber on it, is forty pounds an acre. The wood 
is considered better for fuel than any other purpose. 
Many parts are already so cleared, that wheat has 
replaced the trees, and various houses are building. 
Owing to this system, wood lies before you in all 
directions ; large stacks by the road-side ; wagons 
conveying it to the city; carts ready packed for 
sale ; men, women, and children, all employed with 
wood in some shape or other ; this, added to the 
heavy loads of coals continually passing from Mons 
to Brussels^ brings winter to our remembrance even 
in June. 

The village of Waterloo lies at the end of the 
forest ; the name instantly excites all our interest, 
and we now begin to watch every turn, every 
farm-house, as forming some point worthy of 



276 



LETTERS 



notice. The church contains tablets to the memory 
of many who fell in the battle; we read these 
names, though perhaps unknown to us; they are 
English names in a foreign land; they are the 
names of those who died away from their homes, 
their kindred, and all they held dear ; they died in 
their glory; but will glory dry the tear of the 
widow, the mother, the sister, or the fatherless ? 

Many of the villagers acquire a considerable sum 
oy acting as guides to the visitors ; so many years' 
practice has given them fluency in speaking English, 
and their explanation will enable you to understand 
the relative situation of the contending armies far 
better than a written description; there is nothing 
like ocular demonstration on these occasions, when 
the eye can follow the finger that points, when we 
can see the farm of La Belle Alliance, where Wel- 
lington and Blucher met; when we can stand on 
the spot where the conqueror stood, and in imagi- 
nation behold the great Napoleon quit the field. 

Arrived on the plain of Waterloo, the guide will 
place you on the site of Wellington's tree; the 
ground at this time is low, having been used to 
erect an enormous mound of earth supporting the 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



277 



Belgic Lion ; and until you are aware of this 
circumstance, the idea arises that from that spot 
the field of battle could not be distinctly surveyed ; 
it was formerly on a level with the monument to 
Sir A. Gordon ; but the earth on which the hero's 
foot rested, now contributes to a monument of 
victory too proud to be sullied by another's tread. 
The Hanoverian and Sir Alexander Gordon's 
monuments are side by side, the road passing 
between the two. The inscription on the latter 
will speak to your heart; you will mourn their loss 
with his afHicted family ; but you will acknowledge 
that the bright warrior, adorned with so many 
virtues, did but obey the call of his Heavenly 
King to a higher sphere of action ; the noble spirit 
returned to its home, after a short exile on this 
earth, mercifully spared all the sorrows a longer 
life might bring, and by his death casting a halo 
over his memory which nothing can efface. 

On the spot where the Prince of Orange 
received his wound, the Belgic Lion stands, at the 
height of one hundred and fifty feet. The cannon 
taken from the enemy compose this trophy. The 



278 



LETTERS 



pedestal of white stone contains the simple inscrip- 
tion " 18th June, 1815;" it is sustained by solid 
brick-work, from the ground upwards, which, after 
being reared to this height, is banked up with 
earth, forming a circular mound of a conical shape, 
one hundred and sixty yards in diameter at the 
base. 

In all sight-seeing we generally like to see all 
that is to be seen ; to climb into every difficult 
corner ; to reach some particular spot more trouble- 
some of access than others ; therefore to ascend 
this monument becomes a necessary feat to be 
achieved. One hundred and ninety-six small 
wooden steps lead to the top ; but oh, these steps ! 
do you know what is meant by a breather? 
Perhaps you have never heard so unrefined an 
expression: but should the sound by chance fall 
on your ear, and should your curiosity wish to 
experience the sensation, go shake a paw with the 
Belgic Lion, and you will be satisfied to breathe 
quietly for the rest of your life ; as to going the 
whole of the way without stopping, it is out of 
the question ; wherefore a rope is providently 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



279 



at hand to allow a few moments' recovery ; and 
as to the poor legs, though almost worn out, they 
are utterly unheeded in the occupation of puffing 
and blowing. 

Although twenty years are past and gone since 
these fields were covered with the dead, yet the 
stores of relics are not yet exhausted; and as 
long as there are travellers to purchase, bullets 
and buttons will be found; we take them now, 
not because we believe, as they would have us 5 
that such a bullet struck such a general, or 
that this button belonged to one of the Imperial 
Guard, but because we obtained it on the 
ground of Waterloo; and although time will 
have deadened the belief of the most credulous in 
the identity of these relics, we still love to carry 
one away. 

So great was the demand for buttons, that there 
existed a manufactory at Liege to supply the 
numerous visitors with the wished-for prize, who, 
in the plenitude of their joy, liberally rewarded the 
vendor. This farce has had its day; and now, in 
offering a button, they remark to you, " This 



280 



LETTERS 



is a real one; the manufactured button has the 
eagle's head turned the other way." Ever ready 
to think ourselves the lucky wight, we walk on 
with a singularly contented countenance, inwardly 
resolving to detect the authenticity of the treasures 
of those friends who have previously visited the 
spot, when to our dismay another button is offered, 
with the eagle's head exactly in the opposite direc- 
tion, the fellow swearing his the true, ours the 
manufacture; our dreams vanish, our pride sinks, 
but we pocket the button. 

Does your grasping ambition court a larger 
prize? old cannon balls, rusty bayonets are at 
hand ; you may walk away from the field of battle 
bending under the weight of the trophies that you 
have won, by what means we will not too 
anxiously inquire ; they are your honours, and 
that is enough ; like the would-be sportsman, who, 
having given himself the character of a first-rate 
shot, and killing nothing, buys a lot of birds to 
bring home, rather than tarnish his fair fame, or 
meet the looks of the lady of the house, disap- 
pointed of her second course. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



281 



If the martial exercise has given you sundry- 
sensations of hunger, you may be supplied with 
a very fair luncheon, at a small inn in Mont St. 
Jean, for the sum of two francs a head, 



282 



LETTERS 



CONCLUSION. 

" Honour thy father and mother." 

In childhood we look to our parents as the 
dispensers of all our joys, the soothers of all our 
sorrows ; we run to them for protection from every 
fancied danger ; we rely on them to supply every 
want, to gratify every wish; our little hearts 
invest them with unlimited power, and from their 
word we know of no appeal. When they are 
pleased, we know we are good children, and enjoy 
the present moment, reckless of all else ; and it is 
their looks of displeasure, more even than the 
consciousness of wrong, which restrain our young 
and overflowing spirits from their customary ex- 
citement. 

In youth we still turn to them for protection, 
for comfort, for indulgence. Our uncertain minds, 
as each fresh idea expands, cannot rest until a 
parent's approbation has sanctioned its existence; 
we require their opinion to steady our floating 
thoughts ; what they think right, we eagerly receive 



FROM BRUSSELS. 283 

as truth itself; what they condemn, we as instantly 
reject ; we ask no proof, we seek no reason ; they 
said so, that is enough, fondly relying on their 
steadfast love. 

But when that age arrives that our reason is 
considered mature enough to regulate our conduct, 
then honour your father and mother; it is pecu- 
liarly at that age you can fulfil this commandment. 
The parent silently withdraws authority, no longer 
enforces obedience ; but now turns to you for the 
fulfilment of hopes earned by the anxiety of years, 
looks to your heart to reward a life of faithful love, 
of unremitting assiduity, by proving yourself a 
Christian, a tender friend, a dutiful child. 

Oh ! then, be still their child. 

Let the most scrupulous delicacy dictate your 
every action, your every word. Wound not the 
sensitive heart of a parent by the slightest shadow 
of independence. 

Let not that being, who has loved you through 
evil report and through good report; who has 
watched with heartfelt solicitude your unfolding 
character ; whose approving smile has brightly 
stimulated you to good ; who tenderly aided your 



284 



LETTERS 



exertions to repress any evil inclination ; who was 
ever ready to hail the tear of repentance for the 
unnumbered pangs your heedlessness gave that 
parent's heart; who forgot all self to serve you, 
to promote your welfare ; let not that being feel 
you now wish to shake off that mild restraint ; you 
can now act as you choose, without interference ; 
you have now a right to assert your opinion. 

In the bitterness of disappointed affection your 
parents would recoil from opposing you; but, if 
you have a generous heart, if you possess filial 
affection (that essence of love, unmixed with any 
thing earthly; that relationship in which we are 
permitted to address our Maker), you will shrink 
from the bare idea of thus requiting their faithful 
love. 

Far from proudly expressing your sentiments 
in opposition to theirs, you will not be able to 
endure that your thoughts should even silently 
differ ; you will be uneasy, and if you cannot quite 
agree, you will determine to do so blindly; you 
will feel sure they must be right and you wrong ; 
you will still follow where they lead; you will 
still sweetly cast yourself on their responsibility, 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



285 



A child may rebel and be forgiven; but the 
very fear of appearing to resist, when punishment 
is no longer the consequence of disobedience, will 
render you more submissive than a child. 

The older you grow, the more you reflect, the 
more sacred will the tie between parent and child 
appear. 

It is true, your years increase ; but do not theirs 
also ? and, alas ! does not the flight of these very 
years, hasten the approach of that time when they 
will no longer bless you with their presence ; when 
you can no longer lean for advice on these 
unshaken friends ; when you can no longer ask 
and receive the fondest sympathy from their unli- 
mited affection; when the heart sinks back on 
itself, and too truly acknowledges it has lost that 
support on which it was wont to rest ? A vacancy 
remains which will never be filled up ; a parent's 
smile, a parent's advice is lost to you for ever ; but 
the sacredness of their memory will still influence 
your actions ; the conviction that they still behold 
you, will take possession of your soul. 

But would you know when your heart will pay 
back its tribute of gratitude, — when you have chil- 



286 



LETTERS 



dren of your own; when you smile at their 
happiness, weep for their afflictions, pray for their 
steadiness and well doing, and tremblingly look 
forward for them to that future which you can- 
not pierce; then will filial affection glow with 
a force never to be diminished; then will you 
deeply acknowledge a parent's love; then will 
your own feelings teach you what theirs have been 
for you ; and the utmost love, the utmost reverence, 
the outward and inward respect of every action, 
the most affectionate submission, will never seem 
to you enough to repay that debt. 
It never can be paid. 

But it is in your power to honour your father 
and mother in its truest acceptation ; not with the 
enforced obedience of a child, but with the homage 
of your reason. 



13th August, 1835. 



FROM BRUSSELS. 



287 



Reader ! be gentle in your criticism : this is the 
offering of a dutiful Child to a Widowed Mother. 

If these pages have afforded you amusement; by 
the love of your parents, if living — by the sacred- 
ness of their memory, if departed— let this appeal 
meet a corresponding sentiment in your heart; give 
your assistance in forwarding the sale of this work, 



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